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rAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 


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F.  LAURISTON  BUIIMd 


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FAMOUS   WAK   CORRESPOP«)ENTS 


"News  of  battle!    News  of  battle! 

Hark!  '  tis  ringing  down  the  street; 
And  the  archways  and  the  pavement 

Bear  the  clang  of  hurrying  feet. 
News  of  battle!     Who  has  brought  it?" 

— W.  E.  Aytoun, 
Lays  of  the  Scottish  Cavaliers. 


•  •  ••• 


SIR   WILLIAM  HOWARD   RUSSELL 
Frontispiece 


FAMOUS  WAR 
CORRESPONDENTS 


BY 


F.  LAURISTON  BXJLLARD 

AUTHOR  OF   "historic  SUMMER  HAUNTS,"   ETC. 


Illustrated 


BOSTON 

LnTLE,  BROWN  AND  COMPANY 

1914 


Copyright,  191^ 
Bt  Little,  Bhown,  and  Company. 


All  rightt  reserved 
Published.  September,  1914. 


TO 

E. 

L. 

B., 

F. 

K. 

AND 

B., 

1 

R 

,   P. 

B. 

PREFACE 

As  this  preface  is  written,  journalistic  enterprise  is 
confronted  with  a  clamoring  demand  for  news  of  a  war 
which  promises  to  be  the  greatest  in  modern  history 
and  with  an  absolute  embargo  decreed  upon  publicity 
by  nearly  all  the  nations  of  Europe.  Heretofore  war 
correspondents  have  been  able  to  cross  frontiers  and 
reach  neutral  cities  and  uncensored  cable  and  telegraph 
stations,  whence  they  have  forwarded  their  despatches. 
London  often  has  been  a  great  clearing  house  for  war 
news.  In  the  Russo-Japanese  war,  correspondents 
several  times  rode  to  Chinese  ports  with  budgets  of 
important  despatches;  in  the  Balkan  war  they  made 
their  way  out  of  the  rout  and  welter  of  Turkish  defeats 
to  Roumania.  But  there  is  no  place  in  this  Conti- 
nental struggle  to  which  a  correspondent  may  go  with 
the  hope  of  finding  a  free  wire.  Moreover,  the  move- 
ments of  news  men  with  the  armies  are  likely  to  be  more 
restricted  than  in  any  previous  war  and  this  because  of 
the  new  conditions  brought  about  by  modern  science. 
Methods  of  communication  are  so  nearly  instantaneous, 
and  means  of  travel  so  swift,  that  governments  will  not 
permit  reporters  to  enjoy  the  intimate  touch  with  armies 
in  the  field  which  gave  such  men  as  William  Howard 
Russell,  Archibald  Forbes  and  Januarius  A.  MacGahan 
the  materials  for  their  thrilling  narratives.  The  ten- 
dency to  apply  the  muffler  has  been  apparent  for  years; 
Lord  Roberts  in  South  Africa  tolerated  only  the  free 

vii 


viii  PREFACE 

use  of  the  mails;  the  Japanese  in  Manchuria  "enter- 
tained" the  press  men  elaborately  but  kept  them  a 
long  way  from  the  front;  in  the  Balkan  war  only  the 
correspondents  with  the  Turks  had  any  degree  of 
Kberty.  Today  the  cables  of  Europe  are  controlled 
by  the  war  departments  of  the  Powers.  No  such  rigid 
censorship  has  before  been  known.  Upon  the  day  on 
which  this  is  written  a  despatch  comes  to  my  attention 
stating  that  cables  for  publication  must  pass  the 
scrutiny  of  nine  censors  before  delivery  to  the  papers 
addressed. 

The  general  result  is  likely  to  be  not  the  suppression 
of  the  news  but  the  delaying  of  it.  The  facts  will  be 
told  sooner  or  later.  But  military  strategy  will  restore 
the  conditions  of  the  early  years  of  war  correspondence, 
when  Washington  waited  for  weeks  to  learn  that 
General  Taylor  had  not  been  annihilated  at  Buena 
Vista  and  London  read  the  "Crimean  Letters"  long 
after  Russell  had  penned  them.  Nevertheless  several 
American  correspondents  have  been  sent  across  the 
Atlantic,  Richard  Harding  Davis  among  them,  and 
many  of  the  best  known  English  correspondents  are 
going  to  do  what  can  be  done  at  the  front,  among  whom 
is  Frederic  Villiers,  who  may  soon  add  a  new  chapter 
to  his  picturesque  career.  Upon  the  other  hand,  one 
American  periodical  will  employ  a  "correspondent"* 
whose  desk  will  be  in  its  own  office  and  whose  function 
will  be  to  summarize  the  history  of  the  war  at  long 
range.  Personally  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  it  is  of 
vast  importance  to  humanity  that  the  truth  shall  be 
told  about  war,  and  that  publicity  is  the  greatest  agency 
for  the  promotion  of  the  cause  of  peace;  also  that  in 
time  a  way  will  be  found  for  the  competent  news  man 
to  tell  what  he  sees,  his  freedom  being  restricted  perhaps 


PREFACE  ix 

for  weeks  at  a  stretch  by  the  exigencies  of  the  mihtary 
situation. 

This  book  contains  a  collection  of  biographical 
sketches  of  representative  war  correspondents.  I  am 
well  aware  that  many  men  with  valid  claims  to  dis- 
tinction as  followers  of  the  warpath  are  merely  men- 
tioned, if  they  are  alluded  to  at  all,  and  that  a  volume 
of  vivid  tales  could  be  compiled  from  the  lives  of  such 
artists  and  reporters  as  Melton  Prior,  H.  C.  Seppings 
Wright,  Julius  Mendes  Price,  "Crimean"  Simpson, 
John  Alexander  Cameron,  Lionel  James,  Frederick 
Boyle,  WilHam  Beattie  Kingston,  and  "Fred" 
Burnaby,  to  name  but  a  few  of  the  long  list.  A  large 
amoimt  of  material  remains  unused  in  my  hands. 
This  selection  has  been  based  upon  principles  easy  to 
understand:  that  both  men  of  action  like  Bennet  Bur- 
leigh and  men  of  distinguished  literary  artistry  like 
George  Warrington  Steevens  should  be  included;  that 
while  treating  of  correspondents  who  "cover"  the  same 
wars  for  rival  journals,  duplication  should  be  avoided 
by  a  judicious  choice  of  incidents,  and  that  the  range 
and  variety  of  the  work  of  the  special  correspondent 
should  be  indicated  by  taking  the  reader  to  campaigns 
in  all  quarters  of  the  world.  Also  the  method  of  ar- 
rangement has  been  such  that  practically  a  history  of 
war  correspondence  is  contained  in  the  volume.  The 
citations  from  despatches  are  intended  both  to  aid  in 
the  narration  of  their  adventures  and  to  indicate  the 
quality  of  the  prose  that  was  written  by  the  earlier 
correspondents  who  used  the  mail  and  the  later  ones 
who  dashed  for  the  wire.  I  do  not  claim  to  have  dis- 
covered new  facts,  but  I  have  a  measure  of  pride  in  the 
attempt  to  rescue  from  forgetfulness  the  exploits  of 
George  Wilkins  Kendall  and  the  other  Americans  whose 


X  PREFACE 

pioneer  work  for  the  press  has  never  been  recognized 
in  the  history  of  journalism. 

My  sources  of  information  have  been  numerous. 
It  is  a  pleasant  duty  to  refer  to  the  books  and  arti- 
cles by  the  correspondents  themselves  from  which  I 
have  gleaned  most  of  my  facts,  and  to  such  biogra- 
phies as  that  of  Russell,  by  John  Black  Atkins.  I  have 
been  a  diligent  student  of  the  files  of  the  newspapers 
and  pictorial  weeklies  of  England  and  the  United 
States.  Of  those  who  have  rendered  personal  assist- 
ance I  would  thank  especially  Dr.  Frank  Horace 
Vizetelly,  whose  kindly  generosity  in  the  loan  of 
documents  and  photographs  is  greatly  appreciated; 
Mrs.  Georgina  K.  Fellowes,  the  daughter  of  Major 
Kendall;  Mr.  Paul  MacGahan,  the  son  of  the 
"Liberator  of  Bulgaria";  John  M.  LeSage,  Esq.,  the 
managing  editor  of  the  Daily  Telegraph',  Mr.  William 
Beer,  of  the  Howard  Memorial  Library  of  New  Orleans; 
Prof.  Albert  Bushnell  Hart;  General  T.  Dimitrieff,  of 
Sofia,  Bulgaria;  the  Rev.  Henry  E.  Wing;  and  others 
who  have  helped  me  to  ascertain  facts  difficult  to  verify. 

I  am  under  obligations  also  to  Mr.  J.  B.  Millet  for 
the  loan  of  the  portrait  group  of  his  brother,  the  late 
Francis  D.  Millet,  and  Mr.  MacGahan;  to  the  Century 
Company,  for  the  portrait  of  William  H.  Russell;  to 
Smith,  Elder  &  Company,  for  the  portrait  of  Edmond 
O'Donovan;  and  to  Kegan  Paul,  Trench,  Trubner  & 
Company,  for  that  of  Henry  Richard  Vizetelly. 

F.  Lauriston  Bullard. 
Boston,  September  1,  1914. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Acknowledgement  is  made  of  the  courtesy  of  the 
following  publishers  who  gave  permission  for  the  use 
of  quoted  material  as  here  listed: 

William  Blackwood  &  Sons,  from  G.  W.  Steevens's  "With 
the  Conquering  Turk'*  and  "With  Kitchener  to  Khartoum"; 

The  Canadian  Magazine,  from  articles  by  Frederic 
Villiers; 

Cassell  &  Company,  Ltd.,  from  Archibald  Forbes's 
"Memories  of  War  and  Peace"; 

Chapman  &  Hall,  Ltd.,  from  Bennet  Burleigh's  "Desert 
Warfare,"  "Sirdar  and  Khalifa"  and  "The  Khartoum 
Campaign"; 

Chatto  &  Windus,  from  E.  A.  Vizetelly's  "The  Lover's 
Progress"; 

Dodd,  Mead  &  Company,  from  Steevens's  "Capetown 
to  Ladysmith,"  and  to  Mr.  James  B.  Pinker,  owner  of  the 
English  copyright  of  the  work; 

Duckworth  &  Company,  from  the  English  edition  of 
George  W.  Smalley's  "Anglo-American  Memories"; 

Longmans,  Green  &  Company,  from  E.  F.  Knight's 
"Madagascar  in  War  Time,"  Winston  Churchill's  "Story  of 
the  Malakand  Field  Force"  and"From  London  to  Ladysmith*'; 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Company,  from  James  Creel- 
man's  "On  the  Great  Highway"; 

McClure's  Magazine,  from  an  article  by  George  W. 
Smalley; 

Macmillan  &  Company,  Ltd.,  from  Forbes's  "Souvenirs 
of  Some  Continents"  and  "The  War  Correspondence  of  the 
Daily  News**; 

C.  Arthur  Pearson,  Ltd.,  from  E.  H.  Vizetelly's  "Cyprus 
to  Zanzibar"; 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons,  from  Smalley's  "Anglo-American 
Memories"; 

xi 


xii  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

George  Routledge  &  Sons,  Ltd.,  from  W.  H.  Russeirs 
"The  Crimean  War,"  "My  Diary  in  India,"  and  "My 
Diary  during  the  Last  Great  War"; 

Sampson,  Low,  Marston  &  Company,  from  J.  A.  Mae- 
Gahan's  "Campaigning  on  the  Oxus"; 

Smith,  Elder  &  Company  from  E.  O'Donovan's  "The 
Merv  Oasis"; 

T.  Fisher  Unwin,  from  Burleigh's  "Two  Campaigns.'* 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    The  War  Correspondent:  His  Rise  and  the  Prob- 
lematical Future  of  his  Profession 1 

II    Sir  William  Howard  Russell SI 

III  Archibald  Forbes 69 

IV  Januarius  Aloysius  MacGahan 115 

V    Frederick  VilhCTS 155 

VI    Bennet  Burieigh 192 

VII    Edmond  O'Donovan 231 

VIII    The  Five  Vizetellys 247 

IX     Edward  Frederick  Knight 286 

—"   X    George  Warringtdh  Steevens 804 

XI    Winston  Spencer  Churchill 320 

XII    James  Creelman 336 

XIII    George  Wilkins  Kendall 851 

XrV    "  Covering  "  the  Civil  War  in  America 875 

XV    Reporting  the  Spanish-American  War 409 

Index 425 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Sir  William  Howard  Russell Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

How  London  Punch  delineated  the  Emotion  aroused 

by  Russell's  Crimean  Letter 46 

•^-Archibald  Forbes 72 

Januarius  Aloysius  MacGahan  and  Francis  D.  Millet. .   116 

Frederic  Villiers 156 

\  Bennet  Burleigh 194 

Ednjond  O'Donovan 232 

Henry  Richard,  Edward  Henry,  and  Frank  Vizetelly .  .   248 

Edward  Frederick  Knight 288 

George  Warrington  Steevens 306 

Winston  Spencer  Churchill 324 

\rames  Creelman 338 

^George  Wilkins  Kendall 352 

Charles  Carleton  Coffin 386 

xWhitelaw  Reid 386 

George  Washburn  Smalley 400 

^  Stephen  Crane 418 

-Richard  Harding  Davis 418 


"I  will  go  on  ther^lightest  errand  now  to  the  antipodes 
that  you  can  desire  to  send  me  on. " 

— Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

'*  What  most  extraordinary  men  are  these  reporters  .  .  . ! 
Surely  if  there  be  any  class  of  individuals  who  are  entitled 
to  the  appellation  of  cosmopolites,  it  is  these;  who  pursue 
their  avocation  in  all  countries  indifferently  and  accommodate 
themselves  at  will  to  the  manners  of  all  classes  of  society; 
their  fluency  of  style  as  writers  is  only  surpassed  by  their 
facility  of  language  in  conversation,  and  their  attainments 
in  classical  and  polite  literature  only  by  their  profound 
knowledge  of  the  world.  .  .  I  saw  them  during  the  three 
days  at  Paris  mingled  with  canaille  and  gamins  behind  the 
barriers,  while  the  mitraille  was  flying  in  all  directions,  and 
the  desperate  cuirassiers  were  dashing  their  fierce  horses 
against  the  seemingly  feeble  bulwarks.  There  stood  they, 
dotting  down  their  observations  in  their  pocket-books,  as 
unconcernedly  as  if  reporting  a  Reform  Meeting  in  Finsbury 
Square  or  Covent  Garden,  whilst  in  Spain  several  of  them 
accompanied  the  Carlist  and  Christino  guerillas  in  some  of 
their  most  desperate  raids  and  expeditions,  exposing  them- 
selves to  the  danger  of  hostile  bullets,  the  inclemency  of 
winter,  and  the  fierce  heat  of  the  summer  sun. " 

— George  Borrow, 
The  Bihle  in  Spain, 


Famous  War  Correspondents 


CHAPTER  I 


The  War  Correspondent:   His  Rise  and  the 
Problematical  Future  of  His  Profession 

"...  the  extraordinary  devotion  and  energy  of  the  press,  of  which 
the  country  may  well  be  proud,  have  created,  under  very  great  diflBculty, 
what  may  be  called  a  war  literature,  unexampled  in  ability  and  interest, 
putting  before  the  public  all  the  various  astonishing  events  which  have  so 
rapidly  succeeded  each  other  in  this  tremendous  struggle." 

—  Lord  GranvUley  1870. 

"Those  newly  invented  curses  to  armies — I  mean  newspaper  corre- 
spondents." 

—  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley. 

"The  life  of  the  modern  war  correspondent  cannot  be  described  as 
being  exactly  a  bed  of  roses.  The  glorious  days  of  the  profession,  when 
William  Russell  and  Archibald  Forbes  and  their  like  flom-ished,  have  gone, 
never  to  return." 

—  Ellis  Ashmead-BaHlett 

We  are  told  that  the  profession  of  war  correspond- 
ence is  out  of  date.  War  has  become  as  much  a 
matter  of  business  calculation  as  any  industrial  enter- 
prise, and  in  the  interest  of  efficiency  the  newspaper 
man  has  been  eliminated.  Daring  and  dash  no  longer 
win  battles.  Close  range  actions  and  cavalry  charges 
have  faded  into  the  picturesque  past.  The  application 
of  scientific  methods  to  what  was  once  the  splendid 
game  of  kings  has  stretched  the  little  battle  line 
of  Waterloo  to  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of 
Mukden,  and  has  relegated  the  commanding  generals 


*.        FAMOUS  WAR   CORRESPONDENTS 

to  some  point  far  in  the  rear  of  the  firing  trenches, 
where,  with  a  battery  of  telephones,  a  corps  of  teleg- 
raphers and  a  roll  of  charts,  they  receive  reports  and 
send  orders,  not  by  galloping  aides,  but  by  wire. 
\  The  contending  armies  thus  pushed  apart  and  the 
lines  of  battle  thus  extended,  the  artist  and  the  corre- 
spondent find  themselves  confronted  by  insuperable 
obstacles  which  render  impossible  the  duplication  of 
the  feats  of  men  like  Archibald  Forbes  and  William 
Howard  Russell.  They  cannot  see  a  battle.  Episodes 
and  incidents  may  come  under  their  observation  —  pro- 
vided they  are  permitted  to  get  within  reach  of  the 
firing  line.  These  experiences  may  furnish  the  mate- 
rials for  articles  which  editors  will  welcome  as  **good 
stuff,"  if  the  press  men  are  allowed  to  forward  their 
copy.  But  the  blue  pencil  relentlessly  takes  the  thrill 
and  throb  out  of  their  despatches.  Wires  do  not 
sizzle  and  cables  do  not  oscillate  nowadays  with  the 
stories  from  the  "  specials  at  the  front."  Correspondents 
are  kept  in  straight- jackets,  "cabin'd,  cribb'd,  con- 
fin'd,"  hampered,  limited,  and  circumscribed.  And 
therefore,  we  are  assured,  the  alluring  profession  of 
the  war  special  no  longer  invites  the  newspaper  man. 
Yet  all  these  things  have  been  said  before.  In 
1880  the  then  Lieutenant,  now  General,  Francis 
Vinton  Greene,  U.  S.  A.,  the  friend  of  Januarius  Mac- 
Gahan,  was  writing  of  the  drab  colors  of  the  military 
pageant  which  once  had  made  so  brave  a  show.  "  How 
very  prosaic  the  modern  battle  can  be  with  its  long- 
range  muskets,"  he  said.  "How  tame  as  a  mere 
spectacle  —  how  little  action  there  is  in  it.  Yet  this 
is  characteristic  of  nearly  all  battles  now.  Up  to  the 
last  moment  of  the  final  advance,  which  is  decisive  of 
victory  or  defeat,  but  which  seldom  lasts  half  an  hour. 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  S 

.  .  .  the  dramatic  features  of  battle  have  become 
short-lived  and  infrequent."  In  one  of  his  books 
upon  the  Boer  War,  Winston  Spencer  Churchill  ex- 
claimed: "Alas!  the  days  of  newspaper  enterprise  in 
war  are  over.  What  can  one  do  with  a  censor,  a 
forty-eight-hour  delay,  and  a  fifty-word  limit  on  the 
wire?"  And  Alexander  Innes  Shand,  relating  the 
situation  after  the  Russo-Japanese  War,  declared: 
"The  war  correspondent  is  notably  the  victim  of  the 
cycles.  He  was,  he  is,  and  it  seems  likely  that  he 
may  cease  to  be." 

I  do  not  think  that  he  will  cease  to  be,  and  for  rea- 
sons which  will  presently  appear.     His  province  will 
be  more  defined  and  his  sphere  of  action  will  be  more 
circumscribed.     Times   change   and   he   must   change 
with  them.     The  policies  of  the  newspapers  and  of  the 
war  oflfices  will  be  determined  by  two  fundamental    j 
considerations:  the  right  of  the  public  —  which  pays  A 
the  bills,  furnishes  the  soldiers  and  mourns  the  dead  — j 
to  know  how  well,  or  ill,  a  war  is  planned  and  fought, 
and  the  right  of  the  men  entrusted  with  the  command  of , 
armies  and  navies  to  impose  such  restraints  and  compel  \ 
such  concealments  as  the  strategy  of  a  campaign  may 
require. 

"^  The  war  correspondent  is  a  newspaper  man  assigned 
to  cover  a  campaign.  He  goes  into  the  field  with  the 
army,  expecting  to  send  his  reports  from  that  witching 
region  known  as  "the  front."  He  is  a  special  corre- 
spondent commissioned  to  collect  intelligence  and  trans- 
mit it  from  the  camp  and  the  battle  ground.  A  non- 
combatant,  he  mingles  freely  with  men  whose  business 
it  is  to  fight.  He  may  be  ten  thousand  miles  from  his 
home  office,  but  he  finds  competition  as  keen  as  ever 
it  is  in  Fleet  Street  or  Newspaper  Row.     He  is  engaged 


4  FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

in  the  most  dramatic  department  of  a  profession  whose 
infinite  variety  is  equalled  only  by  its  fascination.  If 
he  becomes  a  professional  rather  than  an  occasional 
correspondent,  wandering  will  be  his  business  and  ad- 
venture his  daily  fare.  Mr.  A.  G.  Hales  is  of  the 
opinion  that  the  newspaper  man  who  is  chosen  as  a  war 
correspondent  has  won  the  Victoria  Cross  of  journalism. 

For  the  making  of  a  first-rate  war  correspondent 
'  there  are  required  all  the  qualifications  of  a  capable 
reporter  in  any  other  branch  of  the  profession,  and 
others  besides.  Perhaps  it  is  true  that  the  regular 
hack  work  of  an  ordinary  newspaper  man  is  the  best 
training  for  the  scribe  of  war.  The  men  who  had 
reported  fires  and  train  wrecks  in  American  cities 
proved  themselves  able  to  describe  vigorously  and 
clearly  the  campaign  in  Cuba.  William  Howard  Rus- 
sell had  been  doing  a  great  variety  of  descriptive  writ- 
ing before  he  was  sent  to  the  Crimea.  The  prime 
requisites  for  a  satisfactory  war  correspondent  are 
those  fundamental  to  success  in  any  kind  of  newspaper 
service,  the  ability  to  see  straight,  to  write  vividly  and 
accurately,  and  to  get  a  story  on  the  wire. 

Occasionally  a  brilliant  workman  appears  from  no- 
where, the  happy  possessor  of  an  almost  uncanny 
intuition  of  movements  and  purposes.  Such  a  man 
was  Archibald  Forbes.  But  Forbes,  no  less  than  the 
average  special,  had  to  have  the  physical  capacity  to 
march  with  the  private  soldier,  to  ride  a  hundred  miles 
at  a  clip  at  top  speed  over  rough  country,  to  sleep  in 
the  open,  to  stand  the  heat  of  the  desert  and  the  cold 
of  the  mountain  height,  to  endure  hunger  and  thirst 
and  all  the  deprivations  of  a  hard  campaign.  Every 
correspondent  at  times  must  keep  going  until  his 
strength  is  utterly  spent.     He  must  have  the  tenacity 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  5 

which  does  not  yield  to  exhaustion  until  his  messages 
are  written  and  on  the  way  to  his  paper.  When  the 
soldier  ceases  fighting  the  correspondent's  work  is  only 
begim.  He  needs  also  to  have  a  degree  of  familiarity 
with  the  affairs  of  the  present  and  the  history  of  the 
past  which  will  secure  him  the  respect  of  the  oflScers 
with  whom  he  may  associate.  Along  with  the  courage 
of  the  scout  he  should  possess  the  suavity  and  tact  of 
the  diplomat,  for  he  will  have  to  get  along  with  men  of 
all  types,  and  occasionally,  indeed,  his  own  influence 
may  lap  over  into  the  field  of  international  diplomacy. 
British  correspondents,  having  covered  many  wars, 
small  and  great,  since  1870,  usually  are  acquainted 
with  several  languages,  and  often  have  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  the  technicaHties  of  military  science. 

Students  of  the  history  of  journalism  pronoimce  the 
influence  of  the  wars  in  the  Low  Countries  upon  the 
development  of  English  periodicals  to  have  been  con- 
siderable. A  precedent  for  the  work  of  the  war  corre- 
spondent may  be  found  in  the  "Swedish  Intelligence" 
which  contains  entertaining  reports  about  the  armies 
of  Gustavus  Adolphus.  But  the  first  observers  to 
whom  it  is  possible  to  apply  the  term  are  Henry  Crabbe 
Robinson  and  Charles  Lewis  Gruneisen,  and  only  the 
latter  was  an  actual  spectator  of  the  events  he  described. 
Usually  William  Howard  Russell  is  called  the  inventor 
of  war  correspondence,  and  the  first  professional  war 
correspondent  he  certainly  was.  But  what  is  said  in  the 
biography  of  the  famous  editor  of  The  Times,  John 
Thaddeus  Delane,  that  when  Russell  was  sent  to  the 
Crimea  the  "idea  of  having  a  special  correspondent 
with  the  army,  moving  with  the  troops  and  describing 
in  detail  every  action  and  incident  of  the  camp,  was 
an  entirely  new  feature  in  journalism,"  is  not  quite 


6         FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

true,  for  precisely  that  thing  was  done  eight  years 
previously  in  the  war  between  the  United  States  and 
Mexico.  In  America  the  fact  has  been  almost  forgotten 
and  in  England  it  never  perhaps  has  been  known,  but 
it  is  true  that  in  1846  and  1847  the  newspapers  of  New 
Orleans  were  manifesting  a  degree  of  enterprise  in 
reporting  the  campaigns  of  Zachary  Taylor  and  Win- 
field  Scott  which  would  be  entirely  worthy  of  the  most 
celebrated  dailies  of  today. 

Even  a  century  ago  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was 
registering  protests  against  such  a  mild  type  of  war 
reporting  as  that  done  by  Crabbe  Robinson  in  the 
Peninsula.  In  1809  he  declared  that  *'  in  some  instances 
the  English  newspapers  have  accurately  stated  not 
only  the  regiments  occupying  a  position,  but  the  num- 
ber of  men  fit  for  duty  of  which  each  regiment  was 
composed;  and  this  intelligence  must  have  reached  the 
enemy  at  the  same  time  as  it  did  me,  at  a  moment  at 
which  it  was  most  important  that  he  should  not  receive 
it. "  Verily  that  protest  has  a  most  modern  sound.  Mr. 
Atkins  suggests  in  his  biography  of  Russell  that  it  may 
have  been  because  of  the  repeated  warnings  of  the 
English  commander  that  there  was  no  correspondent 
in  the  later  Peninsular  campaigns  and  none  at  Waterloo. 
That  final  conflict  of  the  Napoleonic  Wars  had  a  little 
more  than  a  column  in  the  Morning  Chronicle,  and 
three-fourths  of  that  space  was  devoted  to  the  list  of 
the  killed  and  wounded. 

Henry  Crabbe  Robinson  really  was  more  of  a  foreign 
special  than  a  war  correspondent.  Between  the  months 
of  March  and  August,  1807,  he  sent  letters  "from  the 
Banks  of  the  Elbe"  to  The  Times.  He  took  up  his 
residence  at  Altona,  where  arrangements  were  made 
with  a  German  editor  to  place  at  his  disposal  not  only 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  7 

all  public  documents,  but  a  quantity  of  information 
which  the  limits  imposed  upon  the  German  press  pre- 
vented the  editor  himself  from  using,  a  fact  which  sug- 
gests interesting  inquiries  as  to  the  censorship  of  a 
century  ago.  A  very  comfortable  and  pleasurable  time 
he  had  at  Altona,  mingling  freely  in  the  social  life  of  the 
town,  and  sending  duly  to  his  paper  accounts  of  the 
hopes  and  fears  and  rumors  which  made  the  gossip  of 
the  courts  of  Europe.  Napoleon  had  won  Jena  and 
advanced  into  Poland.  It  was  a  time  of  grave  anxiety 
in  every  capital.  The  battle  of  Friedland  was  fought 
on  June  14,  but  the  correspondent  did  not  have  the 
news  until  June  20. 

The  next  year  Robinson  went  out  again  for  The 
Times y  and  from  August,  1808,  to  the  first  of  the  follow- 
ing February  he  was  dating  his  letters  "from  the  Shores 
of  the  Bay  of  Biscay."  On  July  19,  immediately  after 
the  outbreak  of  the  Spanish  Revolution,  he  started  from 
London  with  instructions  to  collect  news  and  forward 
it  by  every  vessel  that  left  the  port  of  Corunna  where 
he  landed  on  the  last  day  of  the  month.  From  a  local 
editor  he  secured  the  papers  published  in  the  Spanish 
capital,  and  the  time  between  sailings  was  devoted  to 
the  translation  of  pubHc  documents  and  the  writing  of 
comments  upon  them,  and  to  social  intercourse  with 
the  "grand  ladies  and  noblemen"  who  were  numerous 
in  the  city.  It  is  altogether  likely  that  he  did  not  see  a 
shot  fired  in  the  whole  campaign  unless  at  a  great  dis- 
tance. The  battle  of  Corunna  was  fought  and  the 
death  of  Sir  John  Moore  occurred  on  January  16,  1809, 
but  he  knew  nothing  of  the  fighting  until  he  went  to 
dine  and  found  the  great  room,  usually  full  of  gay  life, 
deserted  and  not  a  red  coat  in  sight.  A  waiter  said  to 
him;  "  Have  you  not  heard,  sir?    The  French  are  come; 


8         FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

they  are  fighting."  The  correspondent  walked  a  mile 
or  more  out  of  town  and  remained  imtil  dark,  when  he 
went  aboard  a  ship  in  the  harbor.  He  heard  the  can- 
nonading which  seemed  to  "come  from  the  hills  about 
three  miles  from  Corunna,"  and  he  saw  the  wounded 
and  the  French  prisoners  brought  into  the  city.  Yet, 
although  the  vessel  remained  for  two  days,  he  seems  not 
to  have  secured  any  details  of  the  battle  nor  even  to 
have  heard  of  the  death  of  the  English  commander. 

The  next  war  special  was  Mr.  Gruneisen,  who,  in 
March,  1837,  was  sent  by  the  Morning  Post  (whose 
foreign  department  he  had  managed)  to  observe  the 
fighting  in  Spain.  He  made  his  start  with  all  the  speed 
of  a  modem,  for  within  two  hours  he  received  his  first 
notice,  took  his  instructions,  obtained  his  passport,  and 
boarded  the  night  mail  for  Dover.  Having  reported 
upon  conditions  at  San  Sebastian,  he  accompanied  the 
British  Legion  and  for  some  time  was  attached  to  the 
headquarters  of  Don  Carlos.  Although  he  is  better 
remembered  as  a  musical  critic,  Gruneisen  proved  him- 
self a  good  journalist.  He  did  not  spare  himself  in  his 
efforts  to  see  the  incidents  of  which  he  wrote,  and  he 
was  present  at  several  small  actions  and  at  the  battle  of 
Villar  de  los  Navarros.  After  one  victory  the  soldiers, 
contrary  to  the  orders  of  Don  Carlos,  were  about  to 
massacre  a  number  of  prisoners,  when  the  correspond- 
ent, having  tried  several  expedients  in  vain,  at  last 
managed  to  save  their  lives  by  revealing  himself  to  the 
commander  as  a  Freemason.  He  was  with  the  army 
in  the  advance  upon  Madrid,  and  in  the  retreat  which 
followed  he  endured  severe  hardships  and  several  times 
was  in  danger  of  death. 

In  October  was  fought  the  battle  of  Retuerta,  after 
which  he  determined  to  quit  Spain,  but  instead  he  fell 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  9 

into  the  hands  of  the  Christinos.  For  a  time  he  was  in 
peril  of  execution  as  a  Carlist,  and  once  he  was  actually 
led  out  to  be  shot.  He  trusted  to  his  neutral  position 
for  deliverance,  and  made  no  use  in  his  own  behalf  of 
the  appeal  which  had  saved  the  Carlist  prisoners. 
After  a  period  of  imprisonment  at  Pamplona  and  much 
suffering,  the  influence  of  Lord  Palmerston  and  of 
Count  Mole,  then  the  French  Premier,  effected  his 
release.  Gruneisen  returned  to  England  in  January, 
1838.  Later  he  served  as  the  Paris  correspondent  of 
the  Morning  Post,  and  organized  a  carrier  pigeon  service 
between  the  French  city  and  London,  which  was  re- 
garded as  a  remarkable  stroke  of  energy.  In  this  con- 
nection it  should  be  noted  that  in  the  Carlist  struggle 
The  Times  received  letters  from  the  noted  C.  F.  Hen- 
ningsen,  who  fought  in  Spain  as  a  soldier  of  fortune, 
and  was  also  made  prisoner  by  the  Christinos.  He 
was  liberated  at  the  same  time  as  Gruneisen  and  upon 
the  same  condition,  that  he  stay  out  of  Spain  during 
the  continuance  of  the  war. 

But  the  custom  of  sending  special  correspondents 
to  report  campaigns  dates  in  America  only  from  the 
time  of  the  Mexican  War  and  in  Europe  from  the  cam- 
paign in  the  Crimea.  When  General  Scott  entered 
the  City  of  Mexico  in  1847  there  were  only  a  few  hun- 
dred miles  of  telegraph  in  the  United  States,  and  in  the 
whole  Crimean  War  Russell  sent  but  one  telegram,  a 
few  words  announcing  the  fall  of  Sebastopol.  Not  until 
November,  1851,  was  direct  telegraphic  communication 
established  between  London  and  Paris,  and  at  about  that 
time  Algernon  Borthwick,  later  known  as  Lord  Glenesk 
and  then  the  Paris  representative  of  the  Morning  Post, 
wrote  his  father  that  the  use  of  the  wire  "cleaned  out 
his  pockets  sadly."     He  went  on  to  ask  for  £20,  as  there 


10       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

was  "a  prospect  of  warm  work"  and  he  would  *'have 
to  keep  the  electric  fluid  constantly  flowing."  Truly 
that  was  the  day  of  small  things. 

Expense  accounts  have  mounted  very  fast  since 
then.  The  cable  tolls  of  The  Times  for  despatches 
from  Egypt  in  1882  and  1883  when  C.  F.  Moberly  Bell 
was  its  correspondent  footed  up  more  than  £18,000  for 
fourteen  months.  The  cost  of  cabling  Mr.  Bell's  ac- 
count of  the  bombardment  of  Alexandria  was  £800. 
For  ten  columns  of  news  from  Uganda  a  few  years  later 
the  paper  paid  £2200.  Among  the  large  sums  paid  by 
American  papers  probably  the  earliest  for  the  cabling 
of  important  news  were  the  $7000  in  gold  by  the  New 
York  Herald  for  the  transmission  of  the  whole  of  the 
speech  of  the  King  of  Prussia  after  the  battle  of  Sadowa 
in  1866,  and  the  $5000  paid  in  1870  by  the  New  York 
Tribune  for  its  account  of  the  battle  of  Gravelotte. 
These  amounts  have  many  times  been  exceeded  in  the 
last  score  of  years.  At  the  time  of  Russell's  departure 
for  the  East  newspaper  circulations  also  were  small  as 
compared  with  today's  figures.  The  Times,  in  1852, 
had  a  circulation  of  about  40,000.  After  about  twenty 
years  Shirley  Brooks  was  saying  to  Sir  John  Robinson: 
"You  and  Bismarck  are  the  only  persons  who  have 
gained  in  this  war,"  referring  to  the  enormous  increases 
in  the  circulation  of  the  Daily  News  which  were  the 
reward  of  its  exertions  in  the  Franco-Prussian  War. 
In  one  week  the  paper  is  supposed  to  have  jumped  from 
a  circulation  of  50,000  to  three  times  that  number  of 
copies. 

The  "war  extra"  is  one  of  the  most  common  tokens 
of  present-day  newspaper  enterprise,  but  one  has  only 
to  go  a  little  way  into  the  past  to  see  how  great  is  the 
contrast  between  the  conditions  in  Fleet  Street  and 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  11 

Newspaper  Row  a  half-century  ago  and  today.  To 
find  the  very  first  battle  extra,  however,  the  search 
must  be  extended  back  to  1759,  when  there  was  pub- 
lished **by  authority"  an  issue  of  the  London  Gazette 
"Extraordinary"  at  the  Whitehall  Palace,  telling  of  the 
capture  of  Quebec  by  General  Wolfe.  But  consider 
how  the  news  of  the  battle  of  the  Alma  was  given  to  the 
city  of  London.  The  battle  was  fought  on  Wednesday, 
September  20,  1854.  On  the  afternoon  of  Saturday, 
September  30,  the  publisher  of  the  Gazette  was  in  his 
oflice  in  St.  Martin's  Lane  when  he  received  a  message 
summoning  him  to  the  Secretary  of  War  in  Downing 
Street.  He  hurried  to  the  War  OflSce  and  found  the 
Secretary  greatly  excited  over  the  "glorious  news"  and 
much  concerned  as  to  how  the  people  were  to  get  the 
news  on  that  Saturday  evening  as  there  were  no  papers. 
The  publisher  suggested  that  a  special  Gazette  be  printed 
and  copies  sent  to  the  theatres  to  be  read  from  the 
stage.  It  was  done  and  a  sudden  stop  came  to  most  of 
the  performances. 

The  story  of  the  battle  had  been  carried  to  Constan- 
tinople and  the  British  Ambassador  there  had  written 
a  telegram  which  had  been  sent  away  by  messenger  on 
Saturday,  the  twenty -third.  The  nearest  place  where 
there  was  a  wire  available  was  Belgrade,  and  the  coiu'ier 
had  ridden  over  the  Balkans  and  through  Servia  taking  a 
week  for  the  journey.  The  special  Gazette's  report  con- 
tained but  a  few  lines  and  there  were  inaccuracies  in 
these.  On  the  Sunday  there  was  a  supplement  issued 
with  a  brief  telegram  from  Lord  Raglan  and  then  there 
was  a  wait  of  many  days  before  the  long  lists  of  three 
thousand  killed  and  wounded  were  received  and  printed. 
(^The  year  1870,  when  France  and  Germany  were 
fighting  the  war  out  of  which  issued  United  Germany 


12       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and  the  Third  French  RepubHc,  was  the  transition 
period  in  the  history  of  war  correspondence.  Up  to 
that  time  the  specials  won  their  reputations  by  the 
graphic  qualities  of  their  descriptive  articles.  As 
Forbes  says:  "They  had  no  telegraph  wire  to  be  at 
once  their  boon  and  their  curse;  for  them,  in  the  trans- 
mission of  their  work,  there  was  seldom  any  other  expedi- 
ent than  the  ordinary  post  from  the  camp  or  the  base; 
or,  at  the  best,  a  special  express  messenger.*/  In  the 
American  Civil  War  the  telegraph  was  used  to  a  vast 
extent.  Yet  at  the  outbreak  of  the  campaign  of  1870, 
European  journals  had  no  notion  of  substituting  the 
instantaneous  wire  for  the  laggard  mail.  They  thought 
of  the  economies  of  the  slower  vehicle  and  relied  upon 
Renter's  Agency  for  their  foreign  news.  Before  the 
war  was  more  than  begun  astounding  feats  were  being 
achieved  and  the  whole  art  of  war  reporting  was  being 
revolutionized.  The  revolution  would  not  have  been 
possible  had  there  not  been  able  and  ingenious  men  in 
the  field,  and  of  these  the  most  remarkable  was  Archi- 
bald Forbes.  Yet  it  is  a  fact  which  is  not  generally 
imderstood  that  the  celebrated  special  of  the  Daily 
News  did  not  precipitate  the  change.  The  idea  of 
substituting  the  wire  for  the  mail  seems  to  have  been 
carried  to  England  by  George  W.  Smalley  of  the  New 
York  Tribune,  But  he  was  unwilling  to  trust  the  wire 
under  some  circumstances,  and,  as  American  corre- 
spondents had  carried  tidings  from  the  battle  fields  of 
Virginia  to  Washington  and  New  York  City,  so  he 
directed  his  men  to  come  with  their  copy  from  France 
to  London.  The  story  is  related  at  length  in  Smalley 's 
''Memories'*  with  which  should  be  compared  the  ac- 
count in  "Fifty  Years  in  Fleet  Street,"  by  Sir  John 
Robinson  of  the  Daily  News. 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  13 

Mr.  Smalley,  who  had  made  himself  famous  as  a 
special  in  the  American  war,  hiuried  to  Europe  in  1866 
when  the  news  came  of  the  opening  of  hostilities  be- 
tween Prussia  and  Austria.  By  the  time  he  reached 
Queenstown  the  war  was  over.  He  went  on  to  Berlin, 
however,  where  he  did  what  then  was  regarded  as  a 
startling  thing.  There  was  a  break  in  the  negotiations 
for  peace  and  the  homeward  march  of  the  victors  of 
Sadowa  was  halted.  The  American  special  sent  a  cable 
despatch  of  about  one  hundred  words  to  the  Tribune 
and  paid  $500  in  tolls,  which  was  an  unheard-of  extrav- 
agance. 

Upon  his  next  trip  across  the  ocean,  Mr.  Smalley 
went  **as  the  exponent  of  a  new  theory  of  American 
journalism  in  Europe,  a  theory  based  on  the  belief 
that  the  cable  had  altered  all  the  conditions  of  inter- 
national newsgathering  and  that  a  new  system  had  to 
be  created."  The  outcome  of  the  new  system  was  a 
series  of  scores  for  the  Tribune  in  the  early  months  of 
the  great  war  which  all  the  world  was  watching  with 
eager  interest,  and  these  scores  were  commonly  spoken 
of  in  London  as  due  to  the  application  of  "American 
methods  "  to  the  European  situation.  At  the  beginning 
Mr.  Smalley  made  an  alliance  with  the  Daily  News;  the 
messages  from  the  Tribune's  correspondents  were  to  be 
given  also  to  the  Daily  News  and  vice  versa.  London, 
a  little  later,  was  confused  by  the  arrangement,  and  the 
confusion  became  the  greater  because  one  of  the  specials 
for  the  New  York  paper  had  also  an  arrangement  with 
the  Pall  Mall  Gazette,  Smalley's  plan  was  to  select  a 
few  of  the  most  desirable  men  and  to  send  them  out 
with  directions  which  he  himself  has  described. 

"The  instructions  were  very  simple,  but  I  believe  at 
that  time  were  novel  in  England,"  he  says.     "Each  was  to 


14       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

find  his  way  to  the  front,  or  wherever  a  battle  was  most 
likely  to  be  fought.  He  was  to  telegraph  to  London  as 
fully  as  possible  all  accounts  of  preliminary  engagements. 
If  he  had  the  good  luck  to  witness  an  important  battle  he 
was  not  to  telegraph,  but  unless  for  some  very  peremptory 
reason  he  was  to  start  at  once  for  London,  writing  accounts 
by  the  way  or  after  his  arrival.  If  he  could  telegraph  a 
summary  first  so  much  the  better.  But  there  must  be  no 
delay.  The  essential  thing  was  to  arrive  in  London  at  the 
earliest  moment.  He  was  to  provide  beforehand  for  a  sub- 
stitute or  more  than  one  who  would  take  up  his  work  while 
he  was  absent.  Only  when  in  London  was  a  correspondent 
master  of  the  situation.  There  was  never  much  chance  of 
sending  a  full  story  from  the  battle  field,  or  from  some  near 
town,  nor  from  any  capital,  not  even  a  neutral  capital."  ) 

By  faithful  adherence  to  these  instructions,  what 
newspaper  men  exult  over  as  "splendid  scoops"  were 
achieved  by  a  Mr.  Hands,  Holt  White,  M.  Mejanel  and 
Gustave  Miiller.  The  story  of  the  first  exploit  was 
thus  told  by  Archibald  Forbes: 

"At  Saarbriick,  on  the  French  frontier,  .  .  .  there 
was  an  immediate  concentration  of  momentary  interest 
scarcely  surpassed  later  anywhere  else;  yet  to  no  one  of  the 
correspondents  gathered  there,  whether  veteran  or  recruit, 
had  come  the  inspiration  of  telegraphing  letters  in  full.  .  .  . 
The  world's  history  has  no  record  of  more  desperate  fighting 
than  that  which  raged  the  hvelong  summer  day  on  the  plat- 
form of  Mars-la-Tour.  The  accounts  of  that  bloody  combat 
went  to  England  per  field-post  and  mail-train;  yet  the 
Saarbruck  telegraph  office,  from  which  the  embargo  had  been 
removed,  was  within  a  six-hour's  ride  of  the  field. 

"The  battle  of  Gravelotte  did  get  itself  described,  after 
a  fashion,  over  the  wires;  but  it  was  no  Englishman  who 
accomplished  the  pioneer  achievement.  The  credit  thereof 
accrues  to  an  alert  American  journalist  named  Hands,  who 
was  one  of  the  representatives  of  the  New  York  Tribune, 
Whether,  when  the  long  strife  was  dying  away  in  the  dark- 
ness, the  spirit  suddenly  moved  this  quiet  little  man,  or 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  15 

whether  he  had  prearranged  the  undertaking,  I  do  not  know; 
nor  do  I  know  whether  he  carried  or  whether  he  sent  his 
message  to  the  Saarbriick  telegraph  office.  But  this  is  cer- 
tain, that  it  got  there  in  time  to  be  printed  in  New  York  on 
the  day  but  one  after  the  battle.  ...  It  was,  indeed,  no 
great  achievement  intrinsically,  looked  back  on  now  in  the 
light  of  later  developments;  yet  Hand's  half -column  telegram 
has  the  right  to  stand  monumentally  as  the  first  attempt  in 
the  Old  World  to  describe  a  battle  over  the  telegraph  wires." 

The  detailed  story  of  Gravelotte  was  the  work  of 
Moncure  D.  Conway,  who  made  a  thrilling  trip  to 
London,  riding  for  hours  stretched  flat  on  the  top  of  a 
freight  car.  He  had  served  for  some  time  as  pastor  of  a 
Unitarian  Church  in  Washington,  when  he  decided  to 
go  to  England  and  try  to  correct  the  mistaken  impres- 
sions there  prevailing  as  to  the  justice  of  the  Federal 
cause  in  the  controversy  with  the  Southern  States.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  war  between  France  and  Germany 
the  New  York  World  cabled  for  his  services  as  a  corre- 
spondent. With  a  well-known  American  newspaper 
man,  Murat  Halstead,  he  watched  the  battle  of  Grave- 
lotte and  noted  also  the  demeanor  of  King  William, 
Moltke,  Bismarck,  and  General  "Phil"  Sheridan,  who 
was  observing  the  campaign  as  the  guest  of  the  Ger- 
mans. The  morning  after  the  battle  Conway  and 
Halstead  went  over  the  field.  Having  slid  down  a 
steep  bank  to  drink  from  a  spring,  the  clergyman- 
correspondent  found  it  difificult  to  crawl  back  again. 
The  handle  of  a  cane  was  reached  down  to  him  and  he 
scrambled  up  to  find  that  his  assistant  was  no  other 
than  Archibald  Forbes.  The  three  reporters  walked 
together  to  Gravelotte,  where  they  had  a  long  talk 
about  the  battle  with  Sheridan. 

Now  Conway  was  off  for  London.  He  started  afoot 
for  a  French  town  twelve  miles  away,  getting  a  lift  over 


16       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

a  portion  of  the  distance  in  the  cart  of  a  peasant.  As 
he  neared  the  town  he  found  the  road  clogged  with 
ambulances,  and  past  midnight  he  came  to  a  large 
square  in  which  the  surgeons  had  established  an  open- 
air  hospital.  At  Remilly  also  he  found  ghastly  crowds, 
and  as  he  fared  on  to  Saarbriick  the  difficulties  of  travel 
increased.  Here  was  the  railway,  but  the  only  train 
was  packed  with  hurt  men,  and  his  offer  to  serve  as  a 
nurse  for  his  transportation  was  refused.  As  the  cars 
moved  out  of  the  station,  Conway  climbed  to  the  top  of 
one  of  them.  An  official  shouted  a  warning:  "The 
bridges  are  low;  your  head  will  be  knocked  off."  But 
he  found  that  the  front  edge  of  the  car  roof  had  been 
flattened,  and  there  was  little  trouble  lying  on  his  back 
to  escape  the  bridges  so  long  as  the  daylight  lasted.  He 
spent  ten  hours  on  the  car  roof,  and  six  of  the  ten  were 
hours  of  thick  darkness  and  chilling  mist.  For  most  of 
that  period  he  was  stretched  flat,  every  nerve  tense  and 
every  faculty  alert,  gripping  the  edge  of  the  roof  with 
his  hands.  On  the  beautiful  Sunday  morning  which 
followed,  Conway  took  the  military  train  for  Treves. 
Progress  was  slow,  for  wounded  and  dying  soldiers 
were  distributed  at  stations  along  the  line.  At  every 
stop,  before  the  train  paused,  women  would  begin  to 
shriek  for  tidings  of  their  friends.  Years  after,  Conway 
wrote:  "At  times  I  was  sick  and  faint.  The  earth 
yawned  into  one  vast  grave,  the  blue  sky  was  a  pall,  the 
sun  had  turned  to  blood!"  From  Treves  to  Luxem- 
bourg the  journey  was  made  by  voiture,  for  the  railway 
bridges  were  burned.  He  hurried  on  to  Brussels,  caught 
the  night  boat  at  Ostend,  and  on  Monday  morning  he 
was  in  London. 

Not  a  paper  contained  any  news  of  the  great  battle. 
Conway's  first  duty  was  to  cable  a  despatch  to  the  New 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  17 

York  World,  He  then  went  to  the  offices  of  the  Daily 
News  where  Robinson  captured  him  as  the  most  valu- 
able man  in  the  world  at  that  particular  moment.  The 
American  was  not  permitted  to  leave  the  office  until  he 
had  written  the  long  description  of  Gravelotte  which 
was  telegraphed  all  over  Europe  and  translated  into  all 
the  languages  of  the  Continent,  making  a  tremendous 
sensation.  For  the  New  York  Tribune  .gmalley  also 
acquired  it.  In  spite  of  the  alliance  with  the  London 
daily  there  were  circumstances  which  prevented  Robin- 
son's handing  the  article  over  to  Smalley,  whereupon 
the  latter  purchased  it  at  a  good  round  figure  from  the 
writer.  Although  not  of  much  military  value,  the 
picturesque  story  remains  to  this  day  one  of  the  daring 
feats  of  journalism.  But  Moncure  Conway  ended  his 
career  as  a  war  correspondent  then  and  there,  and  for 
weeks  his  dreams  were  haunted  by  the  scenes  he  had 
witnessed. 

Thursday,  September  1,  1870,  was  the  date  of  the 
battle  of  Sedan.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  Saturday  fol- 
lowing, one  of  the  Smalley  specials  walked  into  his 
offices  in  Pall  Mall  with  the  story  of  the  fighting,  as 
seen  from  the  German  side.  On  Monday  afternoon  in 
came  the  correspondent  who  had  followed  the  battle 
with  the  French.  The  first  to  arrive  was  Holt  White, 
an  Englishman;  the  second  was  M.  Mejanel,  whose 
father  was  French  and  mother  English.  When  the 
former  arrived,  London  had  known  for  about  six 
hours  barely  the  fact  that  there  had  been  a  catas- 
trophe at  Sedan.  Robinson  of  the  Daily  News  and 
Smalley  of  the  Tribune  had  been  in  conference  over  the 
situation,  and  at  noon  the  latter  had  received  a  wire 
from  White  saying  he  was  due  in  London  that  after- 
noon. 


18       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Both  Archibald  Forbes  and  Smalley  have  put  on 
record  their  admiration  of  Holt  White  as  a  "man  who 
at  one  supreme  moment  accomplished  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  exploits"  of  journalism.  He  was  in  the 
saddle  from  four  in  the  morning  until  the  end  of  the 
battle.  He  was  standing  near  **Phir'  Sheridan  when 
the  letter  of  surrender  was  handed  by  the  French 
General  Reille  to  the  Prussian  King,  and  the  napkin 
that  had  served  the  messenger  as  a  flag  of  truce  was 
given  the  correspondent  as  a  souvenir.  "And  then," 
to  quote  the  language  of  Forbes,  "with  dauntless 
courage  he  walked  right  across  the  battle  field,  through 
the  still  glowing  embers  of  the  battle."  He  was 
starting  to  London.  He  had  to  pass  the  lines  of  three 
armies,  the  Prussians  who  refused  him  a  permit,  the 
French  outposts  at  the  north  of  Sedan,  and  the  Bel- 
gians who  were  making  a  pretence  at  least  of  guarding 
their  frontier  and  preserving  the  neutrality  of  their 
territory.  For  miles  White  was  riding  with  his  life 
in  his  hand.  He  himself  was  never  able  to  explain 
how  he  got  through.  Reaching  the  nearest  railway 
station  he  took  a  train  for  Brussels  where  he  arrived 
early  on  the  morning  of  Friday.  But  the  issue  of  the 
battle  was  unknown  there.  No  despatch  would  be 
accepted  from  him.  The  operators  scouted  his  story. 
He  was  crazy  or  he  was  trying  to  influence  the  prices  of 
stocks.  And  anything  for  London  or  elsewhere  would 
have  to  be  submitted  to  the  censor,  and  everywhere 
the  censorship  is  a  heartbreaking  thing  to  the  reporter. 
White  went  on  by  train  to  Calais,  missed  one  boat, 
took  the  next,  missed  the  connecting  train  from  Dover 
to  London,  chartered  a  special,  and  was  in  the  English 
capital  on  Saturday  afternoon.  What  followed  must 
be  told  in  Smalley's  own  terms. 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  19 

"Seldom  have  I  been  so  glad  to  see  a  man*s  face  as  to 
see  his,  but  there  was  hardly  so  much  as  a  greeting  between 
us.  *Is  your  despatch  ready?*  *Not  a  word  written.* 
*Will  you  sit  down  at  once  and  begin.^**  T  cannot.  I'm  dead 
tired.  I've  had  no  food  since  daybreak.  I  must  eat  and 
sleep.'  He  looked  it,  a  mere  wreck  of  a  correspondent, 
haggard,  dirty,  ragged,  incapable  of  the  effort  which  never- 
theless had  to  be  made.  That  was  no  time  to  consider 
anybody's  feelings.  A  continent  was  waiting  for  the  news 
locked  up  in  that  man's  brain,  and  somehow  or  other  the 
lock  must  be  forced,  the  news  told.  Incidentally  it  was 
such  an  opportunity  for  the  Tribune  as  seldom  has  come 
to  any  paper.  *You  shall  have  something  to  eat,  but 
sleep  you  shall  not  till  you  have  done  your  dispatch.  That 
must  be  in  New  York  tomorrow  morning.'  We  went  over 
to  a  Pall  Mall  restaurant,  and  back  in  the  Tribune  office 
just  after  six  commenced  work." 

Down  they  sat  opposite  each  other.  Said  White: 
"I  am  to  condense  as  much  as  possible,  I  suppose?" 
Smalley  replied:  **No.  You  will  please  write  fully." 
"But  — it  is  going  by  cable."  "Yes."  "And  it 
will  be  several  columns  long."  "The  longer  the 
better."  "I  still  don't  quite  understand."  "Then 
please  put  the  cable  out  of  your  mind.  Write  exactly 
as  if  you  were  writing  for  a  London  paper  and  the 
printer's  devil  waiting."  Thus  Smalley  relates  the 
conversation,  as  indicating  how  strange  was  the  idea 
of  wiring,  much  less  cabling,  even  the  story  of  one  of 
the  most  momentous  battles  of  the  century. 

Holt  White  wrote  a  terribly  bad  hand.  Smalley 
copied  the  article  sheet  by  sheet,  and  carried  these 
legible  pages  to  the  cable  oflSce,  taking  no  chances. 
Neither  knew  for  a  certainty  that  no  other  person 
had  come  through.  White  had  recognized  no  rival 
on  the  way  and  he  was  sure  none  had  traveled  on  his 
special,  but  it  was  two  days  since  Sedan  had  been 


20       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

fought,  and  the  one  thing  they  could  be  sure  of  was 
that  their  single  duty  must  be  to  get  the  story  on  the 
cable.  White  wrote  on  with  grim  determination. 
Would  he  take  a  brief  rest  before  finishing?  No;  if 
he  stopped  he  would  fall  asleep,  and  if  he  once  slept 
he  would  not  wake.  After  two  on  Sunday  morning 
the  last  lines  were  scrawled  with  fingers  almost  be- 
numbed. 

Monday  morning  the  English  papers  were  nearly 
a  blank  as  to  news  from  Sedan.  Holt  White's  narrative 
did  not  appear  in  the  Daily  News  because  he  had  an 
arrangement  with  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette,  an  afternoon 
paper,  for  which  he  prepared  a  shorter  account  of  the 
battle.  On  Sunday  morning  across  the  ocean  the  Tri- 
bune printed  "a  clear,  coherent,  vivid  battle  story," 
and  it  was  the  only  report  to  appear  either  in  New 
York  or  in  London.  The  London  morning  papers 
first  had  full  accounts  of  the  battle  on  Tuesday.  The 
situation  caused  a  vast  amount  of  comment  and 
mystification. 

While  Smalley  was  still  almost  shouting  for  joy, 
on  Monday  afternoon  in  walked  Mejanel.  "An 
angel  from  heaven  would  have  been  less  welcome," 
says  Smalley.  The  correspondent  had  seen  the  battle 
from  the  French  side.  He  had  taken  his  chances 
of  being  shot  in  order  to  get  away  with  the  news.  He 
was  a  prisoner,  when  once  the  French  surrendered, 
and  he  was  never  able  to  remember  if  he  was  released 
or  if  he  escaped.  If  the  latter  he  might  have  been 
shot  by  German  sentries  or  arrested  and  brought 
before  a  court  martial.  He  had  been  sorely  tried 
getting  on  to  London,  and  had  had  no  chance  to  write. 
He  was  staggering  with  fatigue  but  his  nerves  were 
steady.     At  once  he  sat  down  at  that  small  table  to 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  21 

write.  His  memory  was  accurate.  He  wrote  a  good 
English  style.  His  was  a  picture  of  the  horrors 
within  the  French  lines  and  the  town  of  Sedan. 
Smalley  again  copied  sheet  by  sheet  the  despatch,  and 
at  midnight,  with  four  columns  completed,  Mejanel 
ended  his  toil.  On  Tuesday  morning  that  despatch 
was  printed  in  New  York,  making  ten  columns  in  all 
of  exclusive  matter  on  Sedan. 

The  final  exploit  of  the  series  which  started  the 
making  over  of  the  whole  method  of  war  reporting  was 
that  of  Gustav  Muller,  whose  story  of  the  surrender  of 
Metz  was  published  simultaneously  in  the  Daily 
News  and  the  New  York  Tribune  on  October  30,  1870, 
which  was  the  second  day  after  the  capitulation.  It 
was  a  remarkable  account,  including  a  visit  to  the 
surrendered  city,  which  "startled  all  England,"  to 
use  the  language  of  Archibald  Forbes.  In  London 
The  Times  the  next  morning  quoted  the  narrative  in 
full  with  a  prefatory  statement  "congratulating  our 
contemporary  on  the  energy  and  enterprise  of  its 
correspondent."  That  correspondent  was  long  sup- 
posed to  be  Forbes,  but  the  actual  writer  was  a  German- 
American  whom  Smalley  had  engaged  for  the  Tribune, 
He  saw  the  dejected  troops  of  Bazaine  march  out  of 
Metz ;  he  entered  the  city  with  the  Germans  and  saw 
the  confusion  which  held  sway  there  for  a  time;  and 
then  he  rode  north  along  the  Moselle  valley  to  the 
frontier  of  Luxembourg,  in  peril  all  the  way,  and 
managed  to  get  through  to  London.  Forbes,  who 
repudiated  the  credit  wrongly  assigned  him,  supposed 
the  story  went  to  London  by  wire  from  a  Luxembourg 
hamlet,  but  Smalley  states  explicitly  that  Muller  did 
just  what  White  and  Mejanel  had  done  before  him. 
And  Forbes,  having  penetrated  into  Metz  and  spent 


22       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  night  writing  a  letter,  which  he  sent  off  by  post,  was 
"turned  physically  sick"  by  the  arrival  of  a  copy  of 
the  Daily  News  with  MuUer's  story. 

Thus  it  was  that  Europe  and  the  world  learned 
that  in  modern  war  correspondence,  as  in  every  depart- 
ment of  newspaper  work,  the  race  is  to  the  swift  and 
the  battle  to  the  strong.  Smalley  states  the  case  thus : 
"Putting  the  question  of  cost  aside,  it  does  not  matter 
how  a  piece  of  news  is  transmitted,  whether  by  rail, 
steamship  or  wire.  What  matters  is  that  it  shall  get 
there.  Today  this  is  a  truism;  in  1870  it  was  a  para- 
dox." Forbes  was  quick  to  seize  upon  the  new  idea. 
From  Robinson  came  instructions  to  send  complete 
stories  by  telegraph.  From  that  time  on  Forbes  was 
very  seldom  beaten.  He  became  "the  swift,  alert 
man  of  action,"  to  use  his  own  phrase,  "an  organizer 
of  means  for  expediting  news." 

The  improvements  in  the  systems  of  collecting  and 
transmitting  news  not  only  changed  the  old  order  but 
induced  also  a  vastly  greater  demand  for  information 
of  every  kind.  The  war  correspondent  was  almost  a 
necessary  consequence  of  the  expectations  to  which 
the  advances  of  science  gave  rise.  But  as  the  corre- 
spondents multiplied  in  numbers,  and  the  competition 
became  ever  more  keen,  army  commanders  began  to 
encompass  them  with  restrictions.  Regulations  were 
framed  to  meet  the  dangers  of  a  freedom  which  might 
easily  degenerate  into  an  irresponsible  license.  The 
censorship  was  mild  in  the  war  of  1870.  Scores  of 
correspondents  roamed  and  scribbled  almost  without 
restraint  in  Bulgaria  in  1877.  News  men  were  tol- 
erated, if  not  welcomed,  by  officers  in  the  field.  But 
the  press  men  have  been  hampered  more  and  more 
in  each  successive  campaign,  until  from  the  Russo- 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  23 

Japanese  War  many  correspondents  returned  home  in 
disgust,  and  in  the  late  war  in  the  Balkans  the  men 
who  followed  the  Bulgars  found  the  regulations,  says 
Mr.  Philip  Gibbs,  "appalling  in  their  severity." 

The  duties  of  the  censors  are  opposed  in  most 
particulars  to  the  duties  of  the  correspondents,  so  that, 
unless,  upon  the  one  hand,  great  discretion  is  shown, 
and,  upon  the  other,  great  tact,  the  relations  between 
the  two  parties  become  strained.  At  an  enormous 
expense  the  papers  equip  their  specials  and  maintain 
them  in  the  field.  These  bills  the  newspapers  would 
not  pay,  except  that  no  war  of  any  magnitude  can  be 
fought  these  days  and  the  whole  world  not  be  concerned 
about  it.  Meagre  oflBcial  reports  w:ill  not  satisfy  the 
demand  for  information.  The  public  want,  and  ought 
to  have,  the  details,  and  from  a  presumably  impartial 
source.  The  newspapers  that  would  survive  must 
supply  the  demand,  and  the  rewards  of  their  endeavors 
come  partly  in  increased  circulation  and  largely  in 
prestige. 

Directly  upon  the  beginning  of  hostilities  the  censors 
begin  work.  Whatever  the  conditions,  theirs  is  no 
small  task.  With  gratitude  the  special  correspondents 
in  Cuba  in  1898  bore  testimony  to  their  cordial  rela- 
tions with  several  of  the  censors  there.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  are  not  wanting  able  observers  who  assert 
that  the  military  press  censorship  in  the  Philippines 
was  "maintained  for  the  sole  purpose  of  protecting  the 
administration  and  army  from  popular  criticism,  *  or 
for  political  purposes  only."  The  news  men  were 
not  permitted  to  use  the  word  "ambushed"  in  a 
despatch,  we  are  told,  because  it  would  imply  negligence 
on  the  part  of  the  military  authorities. 

In  the  Boer  War,  before  the  arrival  of  Lord  Roberts 


24       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

in  South  Africa,  the  commanding  general  in  each  of  the 
four  zones  of  action  had  the  option  of  accepting  or 
rejecting  correspondents,  and  staff  officers,  with  Httle 
notion  of  the  duties  of  the  position,  were  appointed 
censors.  There  was  much  confusion  in  consequence. 
Julian  Ralph,  an  American,  wrote  that  one  censor 
amused  himself  by  taking  the  despatches  of  a  young 
man,  who  was  doing  his  best  to  enter  upon  an  honor- 
able career  as  a  correspondent,  and  throwing  them  into 
the  wastebasket  for  ten  days  without  telling  the  special 
of  their  fate.  "It  pleased  him  to  insult  me,"  he  con- 
tinues, "by  telling  me  that  the  only  message  I  could 
send  to  England  must  be  the  description  of  a  sand- 
storm." Nor  was  any  attention  shown  to  the  order 
in  which  correspondents  brought  in  their  despatches. 
The  first  to  submit  his  copy  might  have  supposed  that 
his  energy  was  to  have  its  natural  reward.  But  often 
enough  the  last  to  file  a  message  would  be  the  first  to 
get  the  signature,  his  manuscript  being  at  the  top  of 
the  stack.  With  the  coming  of  Lord  Roberts  the 
unhappy  lot  of  the  specials  was  abated.  Freedom  of 
movement  was  granted  a  large  number  of  men.  Their 
long  letters  were  sent  forward  uncensored,  being 
stamped  and  sealed  at  the  censor's  office  to  insure 
their  final  delivery  without  examination.  The  press 
cables,  however,  were  limited  to  events  which  had 
already  occurred  and  were  subjected  to  censorship. 
But  it  was  an  intelligent  censorship.  The  office  was 
entrusted  to  Lord  Stanley,  who  proved  himself  a 
considerate  and  courteous  supervisor,  and  his  relations 
with  the  news  men  were  always  agreeable.  There 
is  a  political  side  to  the  story  in  this  war  also,  in  the 
judgment  of  some  well-informed  men,  who  declare  that 
there  was  no  military  necessity  for  the  press  censorship. 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  25 

For  many  months  after  the  beginning  of  the  war 
between  Russia  and  Japan  a  small  army  of  correspond- 
ents were  left  stranded  high  and  dry  in  Tokio.  The 
government  made  sure  that  they  cabled  nothing  and 
saw  nothing.  A  special  for  The  Times  telegraphed 
that  General  Fukushima  of  the  General  Staff  informed 
the  foreign  press  men  that  a  force  had  begun  to  land 
on  the  Liautung  Peninsula.  They  wished  to  know 
where  and  in  what  numbers  the  landing  had  been 
effected.  The  General  merely  smiled.  They  asked 
again:  "In  the  East,  West,  North  or  South?"  The 
reply  was :  **  Out  of  the  skies  from  heaven. "  Undoubt- 
edly the  Japanese  were  surprised  and  embarassed  by  the 
great  number  of  press  men  who  flocked  to  the  war. 
But  Bennet  Burleigh,  in  an  eloquent  defense  of  his 
profession,  said  that  the  Japanese,  as  "keen  observers 
of  the  signs  of  the  times, "  realized  that  they  had  made 
a  mistake  in  their  treatment  of  the  correspondents,  as 
was  indicated  by  a  belated  change  of  policy.  In  the 
Balkan  War  the  severity  of  the  press  restrictions 
varied  according  to  the  army  to  which  a  correspondent 
was  accredited.  The  Turkish  censorship  was  inca- 
pable, facilities  for  forwarding  despatches  were  promised 
and  the  promises  were  not  kept,  and  every  effort  was 
made  to  lead  the  specials  away  from  the  news.  The 
Bulgarian  authorities  forbade  the  reporters  to  give  the 
names  of  generals  or  the  disposition  of  troops,  the  names 
or  numbers  of  the  killed  and  wounded,  the  success  or 
failure  of  the  army,  the  condition  of  the  soldiers'  health, 
or  even  the  state  of  the  weather. 

The  object  of  the  embargo  upon  publicity  is  declared! 
to  be  to  prevent  military  information  from  becoming 
known  to  the  enemy.     The  justification  of  the  censor- 
ship is  commonly  illustrated  by  the  citation  of  cases, 


«6       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

some  of  which,  at  least,  will  not  bear  examination.  It 
long  was  asserted  that  Russell's  Crimean  letters  helped 
the  Russians.  Years  after  that  war  Russell  wrote 
Gortchakoff  and  asked  his  opinion,  receiving  in  reply 
a  statement  that  the  papers  had  been  regularly  sent 
him  from  Warsaw  by  a  cousin,  but  that  he  had  never 
learned  anything  from  them  which  he  had  not  known 
beforehand.  And  often  the  tale  has  been  related  that 
at  the  critical  time  in  the  opening  of  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War,  Marshal  von  Moltke  was  most  anxious 
to  know  the  exact  whereabouts  of  the  army  of  Marshal 
MacMahon,  that  he  was  in  doubt  for  several  days,  that 
at  last  a  paragraph,  with  a  Paris  date  line,  in  a  London 
newspaper,  told  him  that  the  French  were  concentrat- 
ing near  Sedan,  and  that  the  German  commander  at 
once  modified  his  plans  and  initiated  the  strategy  which 
ended  in  the  capitulation  of  the  French  army  and  the 
surrender  of  Louis  Napoleon.  That  story  seems  incred- 
ible on  its  face.  It  surely  does  no  credit  to  the  organiz- 
ing genius  of  the  famous  German  soldier. 

That  the  press  has  at  times  committed  excesses  in 
the  name  of  freedom  no  one  will  deny.  But  the  way 
to  keep  that  freedom  within  the  limits  of  propriety  is 
not  by  the  use  of  a  muzzle.  The  whole  question  may 
largely  be  solved  by  seeing  to  it  that  censors  shall  be 
trained  for  their  task,  just,  competent  and  fair,  and  that 
correspondents  shall  be  of  the  highest  level  of  newspaper 
men,  high-minded,  honest  and  trustworthy.  Lord 
Roberts  won  the  respect  of  the  newspaper  men  in 
South  Africa  by  trusting  them.  In  the  Indian  Mutiny 
Lord  Clyde  had  no  trouble  in  securing  the  silence  of 
Russell.  He  merely  trusted  him;  Russell's  honor  did 
the  rest.  Few  indeed  are  the  press  men,  with  the 
ability  to  go  into  the  field  as  war  specials,  who  will 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  27 

betray  a  trust  that  has  been  fairly  committed  to  them. 
As  Bennet  Burleigh  put  it:  "What  a  creature  that 
correspondent  would  be  who  would  betray  the  host 
with  whom  he  remains  as  an  honored  guest!"  But 
he  added,  most  justly:  "And  what  a  contemptible 
enemy  that  must  be  who  trusts  to  the  newspapers  as 
their  intelligence  department,  and  not  to  their  own  and 
well-organized  and  costly  system  of  spies,  scouts  and 
special  service  men!" 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  no  press  censorship  prevents 
military  plans  and  secrets  from  becoming  known  to  the 
enemy.  Spies  and  secret  agents  march  with  every 
army  and  have  their  ears  at  the  keyhole  of  every 
cabinet  and  council  of  war.  Correspondents  work 
in  the  open;  they  can  be  suppressed;  but  the  under- 
ground routes  have  never  yet  been  barricaded.  Upon 
the  other  hand,  it  would  be  easy  to  list  a  series  of 
valuable  services  which  the  war  correspondents  have 
rendered  the  world.  Their  despatches  have  been  read 
in  Congresses  and  Parliaments.  Russell  saved  the 
remnant  of  the  British  army  in  the  Crimea.  Charles 
Nasmyth  saved  the  Crimean  Allies  a  campaign  on  the 
Danube;  Lionel  James  told  the  truth  about  the  battle 
of  Liao-yang  and  hastened  the  coming  of  peace. 
MacGahan  in  Bulgaria,  Creelman  in  Corea,  various 
correspondents  in  Cuba,  supplied  the  world  with 
tidings  of  massacres  and  oppressions  about  which 
mankind  had  a  right  to  know.  To  be  sure,  there  have 
been  exaggerations,  "fakes,"  and  misrepresentations 
in  many  times  and  places.  There  have  been  instances, 
not  a  few,  of  commanders  and  armies  encouraging 
deliberately  the  telling  of  untruths  for  the  booming 
of  personal  reputations  and  the  manufacture  of  spuri- 
ous victories  and  maneuvres.    There  are  charges  that 


28       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  Bulgars  in  the  late  war  thus  put  a  premium  upon 
the  correspondence  of  unscrupulous  and  pliant  men 
and  discouraged  the  energies  of  the  specials  who 
sedulously  sought  to  ascertain  and  to  tell  the  truth. 
The  limitations  must  be  imposed  upon  all  in  order 
that  the  excesses  of  the  few  may  be  stopped.  But 
these  misrepresentations  are  far  from  being  a  modern 
invention.  The  eminent  American  journalist,  E.  L. 
Godkin,  scathingly  denounced  the  falsehoods  sent  out 
from  the  Crimea,  where  he  served  as  a  war  special. 
German  and  Austrian  papers  were  describing  battles 
which  never  were  fought  and  naming  commanders 
who  did  not  exist.  In  this  respect  the  war  correspond- 
ent has  many  times  been  made  to  suffer  for  the  sins  of 
audacious  adventurers  who  have  represented  themselves 
as  specials  in  order  to  get  to  the  front. 

As  long  ago  as  1881  the  case  was  well  stated  by 
Lieutenant  Greene,  before  quoted,  who  wrote: 

"Newspai>er  correspMsndents  will  hereafter  form  a  most 
important  element  in  every  war,  every  great  diplomatic 
conference,  every  other  great  event  of  every  character;  and 
the  way  to  treat  them  is  not  foolishly  to  banish  well-trained 
professional  men,  as  the  English  tried  to  do  in  Afghanistan, 
and  take  in  place  of  their  reports  the  crude,  biased  and 
incorrect  statments  of  tyros  in  the  form  of  subaltern  oflScers, 
but  to  treat  the  real  correspondents  with  dignity,  increase 
their  sense  of  responsibility,  and  give  them  every  facility 
for  acquiring  correct  information  of  facts  that  have  already 
transpired  and  are  concluded;  in  short,  to  make  the  position 
one  that  will  be  sought  by  men  of  brains,  energy,  and  a  high 
sense  of  honor,  and  thus  to  see  that  the  world,  which  will 
have  news  of  some  sort,  shall  have  truthful  news. " 

These  words,  which  sound  as  if  they  were  written 
yesterday,  rather  than  more  than  thirty  years  ago, 
strike  the  right  note.     News  of  some  sort  the  world 


THE  WAR  CORRESPONDENT  29 

will  have,  indeed.  And  it  is  not  good  for  militarism 
to  fe^HtSBtf-^ceifipt  from  criticism.  Russell  said  that 
"independent  civilian  opinion  is  good  for  army  men," 
and  that  "the  close  atmosphere  of  any  society  of 
experts  is  likely  to  be  the  better  for  a  little  outside 
air."  Civilization  must  have  an  unprejudiced  wit-i 
ness  at  the  front  in  war.  Technical  records  have  no 
place  in  the  newspapers.  Graphic  pictures  of  the  life 
of  the  camp  and  incidents  of  the  battle  are  the  stuff 
that  patriotism  thrives  on.  The  people  like  to  read 
about  the  way  the  soldier  lives,  his  shaving  and  his 
eating,  his  whistling  and  his  singing,  how  he  behaves 
under  fire,  little  pathetic  or  humorous  scenes  as  well 
as  big  thrilling  episodes.  The  reporting  of  splendid 
disasters  never  hurts  the  solemn  pride  of  a  people  and 
never  lessens  the  number  of  enlistments.  The  story 
that  Forbes  wrote  of  Gravelotte,  how  as  evening  fell 
the  result  hung  in  the  balance  and  how  the  King  burst 
into  tears  when  Von  Moltke  clattered  up  and  an- 
nounced the  victory;  MacGahan's  picture  of  Skobeleff 
at  Plevna,  Richard  Harding  Davis's  tale  of  the  httle 
boy  on  the  battle  field  in  Greece,  Kravchenko's  des- 
patch with  the  thrilling  account  of  the  destruction  of 
the  Russian  battleship  at  Port  Arthur,  these,  together 
with  the  simple  statements  of  numbers,  commanders, 
marches,  and  all  the  events  of  campaigns,  are  what 
the  people  expect  the  papers  to  print  in  war  time. 

/The  statesman  and  the  soldier  must  reckon  with 
the  fact  that  the  people  conceive  themselves  to  have 
the  right  to  know  about  the  administration  of  their 
government,  the  spending  of  their  money  and  the 
fighting  of  their  wars.  The  printing  press  is  but 
another  name  for  publicity  and  publicity  more  and 
more  is  taking  its  place  as  one  of  the  very  chief  imple- 


30       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ments  of  progress  and  civilization.  This  funda- 
mental principle  was  stated  on  a  time  by  Frederic 
Villiers,  the  famous  war  artist  and  correspondent, 
in  these  vigorous  words: 

"Whatever  the  temptation,  whatever  the  influence  or 
pressure,  whatever  the  government  itself,  whatever  the 
consequences  or  personal  sacrifice,  never  suppress  the  news. 

"Always  tell  the  truth,  always  take  the  humane  and 
moral  side,  always  remember  that  right  feeling  is  the  vital 
spark  of  strong  writing,  and  that  publicity,  publicity, 
publicity  is  the  greatest  moral  factor  and  force  in  our  public 
life." 


CHAPTER  n 
SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL 

"  Russell  rose  like  a  meteor  in  the  Crimean  War.'* 

—  F.  Max  Mutter. 

On  an  evening  in  February,  1854,  William  Howard 
Russell,  general  reporter  and  descriptive  writer,  Irish 
wit,  story-teller  and  all-round  good  fellow,  was  sitting 
"on  call"  at  his  desk  in  the  oflfice  of  The  Times  in 
Printing  House  Square  in  the  city  of  London  when  a 
messenger  brought  him  a  summons  to  the  room  of 
John  Thaddeus  Delane,  the  editor  of  the  famous 
newspaper.  Of  the  conversation  which  took  place 
in  that  interview  there  is  no  record,  but  the  amazing 
consequences  which  ensued  make  a  great  chapter  in 
the  history  of  journalism,  a  chapter  the  more  interest- 
ing because  neither  the  editor  nor  the  reporter  had  any 
notion  of  what  these  results  were  to  be.  England  and 
Russia  were  in  dispute.  The  government  had  decided 
to  prove  to  the  Czar  its  serious  intention  of  supporting 
Turkey  against  aggressions.  Troops  were  going  to 
the  Mediterranean.  Russell  should  take  passage  with 
the  Guards  to  Malta.  Everything  would  be  "very 
agreeable."  He  would  have  handsome  pay  and  allow- 
ances, his  wife  and  family  could  join  him  and  it  would 
be  a  delightful  little  excursion.  Never  mind  about 
his  law  practice;  there  was  not  much  of  it  anyhow  and 
what  there  was  could  wait.  He  would  surely  be  back 
before  Easter  anyway.  What  occasion  was  there  for 
worry? 


32       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Russell  duly  proceeded  to  Malta,  but  he  went  on 
also  to  Constantinople,  and  thence  to  the  Crimea. 
Ere  he  returned  three  Easters  had  passed,  and  when 
finally  he  came  home  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  his 
children,  he  found  himself  famous  and  his  paper  more 
powerful  than  at  any  previous  time  in  its  history. 

Of  just  one  thing  could  Delane  be  positive,  when 
he  despatched  Russell  as  a  special  with  the  British 
troops:  he  was  sure  he  had  made  no  mistake  in  his 
choice  of  a  man.  This  reporter  was  already  "Billy" 
Russell,  and,  in  order,  he  was  to  become  "Crimean" 
Russell,  "Dr."  Russell,  "Bull  Run"  Russell  and  Sir 
William  Russell,  the  friend  of  Thackeray  and  Bis- 
marck, of  Sir  Colin  Campbell  and  John  Bigelow,  a 
chosen  companion  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  the 
most  versatile  representative  of  The  Times,  to  whom 
was  assigned  a  bewildering  variety  of  commissions 
and  especially  those  which  required  peculiar  powers  of 
observation  and  description. 

He  was  just  of  age  and  covering  his  very  first  assign- 
ment for  the  paper  when  he  showed  the  qualifications 
of  a  first-rate  reporter.  His  cousin,  Robert  Russell, 
came  to  Ireland  to  "do"  the  elections  for  The  Times. 
A  staff  of  young  fellows  was  needed  to  write  simple  and 
accurate  accounts  of  what  they  might  see,  and  he  came 
to  "Billy"  with  the  proposition.  He  would  have 
letters  to  the  best  people,  a  guinea  a  day  and  his 
hotel  expenses.  Would  he  start  next  week?  The 
yoimg  man  needed  the  money  and  started.  At  once 
he  manifested  that  knack  for  finding  the  news  which 
some  call  common  sense  and  others  rate  as  genius, 
that  scent  which  smells  out  place  and  time  as  an  animal 
follows  a  trail. 

Delayed  in  reaching  his  first  meeting,  he  missed 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL        33 

some  riotous  proceedings.  Where  was  he  to  get  an 
impartial  account  of  both  sides?  Where  indeed? 
He  recalled  that  this  was  an  election,  and  what  was 
most  significant,  that  it  was  an  Irish  election,  and  he 
went  straight  to  the  hospital,  where  he  found  repre- 
sentatives of  both  parties  and  got  the  two  versions  of  the 
day's  occurrences.  Five  days  after  its  writing  his 
first  despatch  to  The  Times  was  printed,  and  soon  a 
letter  from  Robert  Russell  arrived  praising  his  "capital 
work."  What  was  more,  the  paper  printed  a  "leader" 
based  upon  the  young  reporter's  '* burning  words." 
Russell  was  born  in  the  county  of  Dublin  on 
March  28,  1820.  He  had  been  a  student  at  Trinity 
College  when  his  cousin's  offer  reached  him.  The 
elections  over  he  went  to  London  and  wrote  stories  and 
articles  for  the  magazines  and  made  himself  expert  in 
shorthand.  Then  The  Times  gave  him  a  place  in  the 
Reporters'  Gallery  of  the  House  of  Commons.  His 
first  experience  with  an  army  in  the  field  was  in  the 
little  Danish  war  of  1850.  But  "the  father  of  war 
correspondence"  looked  upon  this  as  only  another 
assignment  and  the  despatch  describing  the  action 
at  Idstedt,  in  which  he  received  a  slight  flesh  wound, 
was  anything  but  a  Russell  article  of  the  later  days. 
He  was  sent  to  Cherbourg  for  the  great  naval  review  of 
1850;  he  went  about  England  with  Kossuth;  he  covered 
law  reports,  launchings  and  theatres;  never  did  he 
know  what  might  be  required  of  him.  His  paper 
used  him  for  the  funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 
The  best  and  most  important  picture  stories  were 
coming  his  way.  Also  he  was  intimate  with  such  men 
as  Douglas  Jerrold,  John  Leech  and  Charles  Reade,  and 
a  welcome  visitor  to  the  Garrick,  and  also  at  the  Field- 
ing Club,  where  "there  was  just   a  suspicion  of  the 


34       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

coast  of  Bohemia  among  the  habitues."  Thus  he 
reached  at  the  age  of  thirty-four  the  most  eventful 
year  of  his  life. 

Said  Russell:  "When  the  year  of  grace  1854  opened 
on  me  I  had  no  more  idea  of  being  what  is  now  —  ab- 
surdly I  think  —  called  a  'war  correspondent'  than 
I  had  of  becoming  Lord  Chancellor."  Probably  he 
had  less,  for  he  still  indulged  the  notion  that  the  law 
was  to  be  his  permanent  profession.  But  Delane 
requisitioned  him  for  the  trip  to  Malta  and  soon  he 
departed  upon  what  was  to  be  the  chief  illustration 
to  the  world  of  the  work  of  the  special  correspondent. 

Dickens  and  Thackeray  were  among  the  friends  who 
gave  him  a  farewell  dinner.  With  the  departure  of 
the  Guards  on  February  22  began  his  mishaps.  His 
permission  to  sail  had  not  arrived  when  he  reached 
Southampton.  He  went  by  another  route  to  Valetta, 
whence  he  wrote  gossipy  letters  to  London.  Word 
came  from  The  Times  that  England  and  France  were 
to  send  a  joint  force  to  Turkey.  But  how  was  Russell 
to  move  when  the  army  moved  .^  The  ships  were 
all  in  government  service  and  he  had  no  right  aboard. 
A  friend  came  to  his  rescue.  Let  him  be  ready  at  any 
moment  and  this  friend  in  need  would  engage  to  see 
that  he  got  off. 

On  the  night  of  March  20,  as  he  was  at  the  Lodge  of 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  getting  ready  for  initiation,  "an 
orderly  thundered  at  the  door  and  handed  in  a  slip 
of  paper."  The  message  read:  "The  Golden  Fleece 
will  be  off  at  midnight.  Your  berth  is  all  right.  Get 
your  things  on  board  at  once. "  He  left  his  friends  at 
the  Masonic  gathering,  and  started  for  Turkey  without 
a  horse  and  minus  a  servant  who  stayed  ashore  with  the 
greater   part   of   his   kit.    But  his  heart  was  almost 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL         35 

as  light  as  was  his  baggage.  A  week  after  his  em- 
barkation he  landed  at  Gallipoli,  and  then  his  troubles 
began  anew. 

He  was  nobody's  child.  The  Rifles  marched  off; 
he  remained  behind.  He  had  neither  quarters  nor 
rations.  Money  he  had,  but  there  was  naught  to  buy. 
He  spoke  no  Greek  and  no  Turkish.  The  life  about 
him  was  novel  and  exciting  enough;  a  stream  of  ships 
was  passing  all  the  time;  strange  unif<|rms,  Turcos, 
Chasseurs,  Spahis;  salutes  were  almost  continuous, 
and  dignitaries,  French  and  English,  were  landing  and 
departing.  The  tide  of  war  was  flowing  constantly 
northward  through  the  Dardanelles,  and  presently 
Russell  made  shift  to  go  to  Scutari.  Here  he  was  more 
comfortable  for  a  while.  He  could  buy  what  he  wanted, 
but  — 

"  One  evening,  returning  from  a  ride,  he  discovered 
his  tent  as  flat  as  a  pancake  about  four  hundred 
yards  from  camp, "  so  the  story  is  related.  "An  official 
had  ordered  the  tent  removed  at  once.  On  inquiry 
Russell  found  that  the  Commander-in-Chief  and  his 
staff  had  been  inspecting  the  camp;  some  one  noticed 
the  tent,  a  non-regulation  ridgepole  thing.  *Whose 
is  it?'  *The  Times'  correspondent's.'  Brigadier  Ben- 
tinck  at  once  fulminated:  *What  the  —  etc.,  etc.,  is 
he  doing  here?'     And  the  tent  came  down." 

By  this  time  his  frank  letters  about  the  deprivations 
of  sick  soldiers  were  beginning  to  expose  him  to  the 
serious  displeasure  of  the  army  officers,  and  more  than 
ever  it  was  becoming  hopeless  for  him  to  try  to  get 
anything  needed  for  himself  or  those  he  employed. 
Delane  at  length  wrote  that  the  government  had 
ordered  that  facilities  should  be  provided  for  him, 
and  he  went  to  the  quarters  of   Lord   Raglan    near 


36       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Scutari  with  some  hope  of  reHef .  But  Lord  Raglan  was 
"  very  much  engaged. "  The  aide  heard  his  request  with 
what  Russell  says  was  an  expression  half  of  amusement 
and  half  of  amazement,  and  finally  told  him  with  the 
utmost  politeness  that  there  was  not  the  least  chance 
of  his  wishes  being  granted. 

Russell  gave  it  up  for  the  time  being  and  went 
across  to  Pera  and  an  hotel.  Soon  he  embarked  with 
the  expedition  for  Varna.  His  position  was  in  no  way 
bettered.  He  wrote  the  paper:  "I  have  just  been 
informed  on  good  authority  that  Lord  Raglan  has 
determined  not  to  recognize  the  press  in  any  way,  or 
to  give  them  rations  or  assistance,  and  worse  than  all, 
it  is  too  probable  that  he  will  forbid  our  accompanying 
the  troops." 

The  news  man  was  merely  a  camp  follower.  His 
tent  was  removed  and  put  outside  the  lines.  Thus  he 
was  liable  to  robbery,  and,  as  one  outside  the  army, 
the  men  would  think  him  an  outcast  and  the  officers 
would  be  shy  of  contact  and  of  speech  with  him. 
After  a  time  the  Duke  of  Cambridge  saw  the  lone, 
little  blue-striped  tent  on  a  deserted  camping-ground. 
An  officer  was  sent  to  ask  what  tent  it  was  and  the 
Duke  was  astonished  by  the  answer,  "It  belongs  to 
The  Times'  correspondent,  Mr.  Russell."  "What  is  he 
doing  here?"  was  again  the  question.  But  the  tent 
was  left  until  the  evening,  when  Russell  packed  up 
again  and  went  by  bullock  transport  from  Varna  to 
Devna. 

At  last  such  directions  came  as  permitted  him  to 
draw  rations  and  pay  the  Commissariat  for  them. 
Almost  immediately  thereafter  arrived  the  orders 
for  the  embarkation  for  the  Black  Sea  peninsula,  known 
as  the  Crimea.     And  again  Russell  was  hard  put  to 


Sm  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       37 

it  to  stay  with  the  troops.  He  said:  "I  probably 
would  have  lost  touch  with  the  army  but  that  Sir  De 
Lacy  Evans  invited  me  on  board  the  City  of  London. 
I  sailed  for  the  seat  of  war  in  an  extremely  desolate 
condition  —  without  baggage,  man  or  horse. "  He  had 
a  few  borrowed  clothes  when  he  set  out  on  that  event- 
ful campaign,  a  small  bag  with  a  change  of  linen,  and 
that  was  about  all.  He  had,  moreover,  but  the 
vaguest  idea  of  what  he  was  to  do. 

More  miserable  than  ever  was  his  plight  when  the 
landing  was  made.  Some  officers  of  the  Seventh 
Fusiliers  gave  him  a  bit  of  biscuit  and  a  swallow  of 
soup.  But  when  he  undertook  to  return  to  the  ship 
he  found  the  small  boats  gone.  That  night  he  spent 
under  a  cart,  hearing  the  splash  of  the  rain,  the  thunder 
of  the  surf,  and  the  striking  of  the  ships'  bells. 

The  day  before  the  battle  of  the  Alma  an  officer 
rode  up  to  him  from  a  cluster  of  staff  men,  and  said: 
"The  General  wants  to  know  who  you  are  and  what 
you  are  doing  here,  sir."  Russell  explained.  **I 
think  you  had  better  come  and  see  the  General  your- 
self," said  the  aide.  When  Russell  explained  once 
more,  there  was  again  a  volley  of  profanity. 

"I  had  as  soon  see  the  devil,"  said  the  General. 
"What  do  you  know  about  this  kind  of  work  and  what 
will  you  do  when  we  get  into  action?"  And  Russell 
replied:  "Well,  it  is  quite  true  I  have  very  little 
acquaintance  with  the  business,  but  I  suspect  there  are 
a  great  many  here  with  no  more  knowledge  than 
myself."  And  the  General  laughed  and  accused  the 
correspondent  of  being  an  Irishman. 

After  the  battle  Russell  settled  down  at  Balaclava. 
He  declared  forever  after  that  he  could  not  remember 
how  he  came  into  possession  of  a  house  in  which  he 


38        FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

lived.  He  had  no  claim  to  a  foot  of  ground  —  every 
inch  belonged  to  the  army.  But  the  boards  were 
fitted  to  his  windows  and  his  roof  was  tarpaulined 
by  friendly  hands.  He  had  the  floor  for  a  bed,  and 
his  "duds"  hung  from  pegs  on  the  walls.  He  was 
allowed  at  last  to  draw  rations,  but  often  enough  he 
went  hungry  and  cold. 

Then  on  a  day  came  an  oflScer  with  orders  for  the 
surrender  of  these  quarters.  They  were  said  to  be 
needed  for  "Her  Majesty's  Service."  He  might  by 
this  time  have  stirred  the  people  at  home  to  a  burst 
of  indignation  by  writing  this  fact  to  The  Times  ^  but 
he  held  his  peace  and  once  more  became  a  wanderer. 
The  tents  of  friends  sheltered  him  at  times  and  some- 
times he  sought  a  refuge  aboard  some  ship.  No 
wonder  that  in  January,  1855,  he  sent  word  home  that 
he  was  "getting  bald  as  a  round  shot  and  grey  as  a 
badger"  and  "near  losing  his  health  and  spirits." 

A  decent  degree  of  comfort  in  the  end  was  provided 
for  him  by  the  arrival  of  a  hut  from  England.  The 
Times  had  been  doing  what  was  possible  to  secure  him 
reasonable  accommodations.  But  the  distance  was 
accounted  great  in  those  days  and  communication 
was  slow.  Things  sent  him  went  astray  and  some- 
times his  letters  were  delayed.  How  that  hut 
gladdened  his  eyes!  "It  was  square  with  a  sloping 
roof,  and  with  windows  on  two  sides,  and  it  was 
divided  by  a  partition."  Later  he  added  a  stable, 
and  in  summer  he  actually  had  a  little  border  of 
flowers  about  the  place.  The  shells  of  the  Russians 
occasionally  fell  near  and  one  carried  away  his  stable. 
When  he  finally  left  the  Crimea,  that  hut  was  almost 
the  last  building  before  Sebastopol  in  which  there  was 
a  resident. 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       39 

I  have  lingered  upon  the  record  of  Russell's  hard- 
ships partly  to  indicate  the  attitude  at  that  time  of 
military  men  to  a  profession  of  which  they  knew 
nothing  and  for  which  they  cared  less,  and  partly  be- 
cause Russell  fathered  the  business  of  war  reporting  in 
Europe,  and,  therefore,  a  degree  of  interest  in  the  con- 
ditions under  which  he  did  his  work  may  reasonably  be 
assumed.  Now  for  the  story  of  the  enormous  service 
Russell  rendered  the  armies  of  England  by  his  exposures 
of  the  privations  and  sufferings  which  they  were  called 
upon  to  endure,  exposures  that  resulted  in  the  over- 
throw of  a  British  ministry,  and  in  the  coming  to  the 
Crimea  of  Florence  Nightingale  and  her  band  of 
devoted  nurses. 

Even  at  Gallipoli  the  correspondent  had  noted  the 
"beginnings  of  chaos  in  the  British  commissary  and 
sanitary  arrangements."  He  wrote  Delane  that  the 
mismanagement  was  "infamous."  At  Varna  he  came 
face  to  face  with  the  crisis  in  his  life. 

He  must  tell  what  he  saw,  or  he  must  shut  his  eyes 
and  hold  his  tongue.  He  might  have  the  comparative 
comforts  of  toleration  from  the  British  oflScers,  by 
suppressing  the  facts  which  could  not  escape  his 
attention  and  allowing  himself  to  be  persuaded  that 
such  things  were  but  the  dire  necessities  of  war,  or  he 
might  write  the  whole  story  to  his  paper  and  accept 
the  consequences.     His  biographer  puts  the  case  thus: 

"The  test  which  comes  sooner  or  later  to  every  man 
came  to  him.  In  a  few  weeks  he  was  to  be  a  man  of 
public  affairs,  engaged  no  longer  in  the  description  of 
incidents  which  were  of  no  great  importance  one  way  or 
the  other,  but  concerned  in  the  lives  of  thousands  of 
human  beings,  supplying  the  facts  which  shook  the 
Horse  Guards  and  the  Cabinet  to  their  base,   and 


40       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

eventually  brought  the  Aberdeen  Ministry  crashing  to 
their  ruin.  The  oflSce  of  'special  correspondent*  was 
truly  created  at  that  time." 

The  world  now  well  knows  the  story  of  the  horrors 
which  were  chronicled  in  the  letters  of  Russell  to  The 
Times,  He  wrote  Delane  that  he  could  not  tell  all  the 
truth  —  it  was  too  terrible.  Warm  clothing  for  the 
men  came  too  late.  The  trenches  were  filled  with 
filth  and  water.  The  colonel  of  a  regiment  of  dragoons 
told  him  that  the  best  stables  in  England  could  not 
now  save  their  chargers  —  they  were  so  far  gone  that 
they  must  die.  The  number  of  sick  in  the  British 
army  in  Turkey  and  Bulgaria  in  April,  1854,  was  five 
hundred  and  three.  In  July  at  Varna  the  number  was 
6937.  In  January  following  it  was  23,076.  For  every 
death  from  other  causes  there  were  eight  who  died  from 
the  awful  sufferings  of  that  winter  in  the  Crimea.  The 
men  were  destitute  of  shelter,  of  greatcoats,  of  medi- 
cines. They  were  encamped  on  an  open  plateau,  "a 
vast,  black  waste  of  soddened  earth,  when  it  was  not 
covered  with  snow,  dotted  with  little  pools  of  foul  water 
and  seamed  with  brown-colored  streamlets  strewn  with 
carcasses  of  horses."  The  Russian  artillery  fire 
was  continuous  through  all  that  worst  winter  the 
Crimea  had  known  in  fifty  years. 

In  September  Delane  himself  visited  the  East,  so 
uneasy  was  the  feeling  in  his  mind,  even  at  that  early 
date.  He  saw  with  his  own  eyes  something  of  the 
truth  of  what  Russell  was  saying.  The  manager  also 
had  to  endure  a  hurricane  of  abuse  through  the  winter 
for  printing  Russell's  letters,  but  he  always  said  to  his 
correspondent,  "Tell  the  exact  truth." 

And  Russell,  telling  **the  exact  truth,"  was  obliged 
to  give  to  the  world  such  facts  as  these: 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       41 

"As  to  the  town  itself,  words  cannot  describe  its  filth, 
its  horrors,  its  hospitals,  its  burials,  its  dead  and  dying 
Turks,  its  crowded  lanes,  its  noisome  sheds,  its  beastly  pur- 
lieus, or  its  decay.  All  the  pictures  ever  drawn  of  plague 
and  pestilence,  from  the  work  of  the  inspired  writer  who 
chronicled  the  woes  of  infidel  Egypt  down  to  the  narratives 
of  Boccaccio,  DeFoe  or  Moltke,  fall  short  of  individual 
*bits*  of  disease  and  death,  which  any  one  may  see  in  half 
a  dozen  places  during  half  an  hour's  walk  in  Balaclava. 
In  spite  of  all  our  efforts  the  dying  Turks  have  made  of 
every  lane  and  street  a  cloaca,  and  the  forms  of  human  suffer- 
ing which  meet  the  eye  at  every  turn,  and  once  were  wont  to 
shock  us,  have  now  made  us  callous  and  have  ceased  to 
attract  passing  attention.  Raise  up  the  piece  of  matting 
or  coarse  rug  which  hangs  across  the  doorway  of  some 
miserable  house,  from  within  which  you  hear  wailings  and 
cries  of  pain  and  prayers  to  the  Prophet,  and  you  will  see 
in  one  spot  and  in  one  instant  a  mass  of  accumulated  woes 
which  will  serve  you  with  nightmares  for  a  lifetime.  The  dead, 
laid  out  as  they  died,  are  lying  side  by  side  with  the  living, 
and  the  latter  present  a  spectacle  beyond  all  imagination. 
The  commonest  accessories  of  a  hospital  are  wanting;  there 
is  not  the  least  attention  paid  to  decency  or  cleanliness  — 
the  stench  is  appalling  —  the  foetid  air  can  barely  struggle 
out  to  taint  the  atmosphere,  save  through  the  chinks  in  the 
walls  and  roofs,  and,  for  all  I  can  observe,  these  men  die 
without  the  least  effort  being  made  to  save  them.  There 
they  lie,  just  as  they  were  let  gently  down  on  the  ground 
by  the  poor  fellows,  their  comrades,  who  brought  them  on 
their  backs  from  the  camp  with  the  greatest  tenderness, 
but  who  are  not  allowed  to  remain  with  them.  The  sick 
appear  to  be  tended  by  the  sick  and  the  dying  by  the  dying.  '* 

Copies  of  The  Times  of  course  were  mailed  back  to 
the  Crimea.  The  correspondent  knew  when  his  letters 
had  been  read  by  oflficers  and  friends,  even  though  they 
said  no  word.  Their  faces  were  averted;  they  had  no 
longer  a  smile  of  greeting  for  him;  hints  were  conveyed 
to  him  in   roundabout   ways  that  the  commanding 


42       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

generals  would  make  no  objections  to  his  departure. 
But  he  went  on  with  his  narrative  of  the  miseries  of 
that  winter.  The  water  was  a  foot  deep  in  the  tents 
of  the  men,  coming  through  the  canvas  *'like  sieves." 
Shoes  once  off  would  not  go  back  over  their  swollen 
feet;  they  hopped  about  barefooted  in  the  snow; 
their  sheet-iron  stoves  would  not  stand  their  charcoal 
fuel.  The  ** wretched  boys"  sent  out  to  swell  the 
thinned  ranks  "died  ere  a  shot  was  fired  against  them." 

Now  Russell  sent  the  simple,  direct  appeal  which 
brought  Florence  Nightingale  to  the  Crimea.  "Are 
there  no  devoted  women  among  us  able  and  willing 
to  go  forth  and  minister  to  the  sick  and  suffering 
soldiers?"  he  asked.  On  November  4,  1854,  "the 
Lady-in-Chief "  reached  the  hospital  at  Scutari.  She 
had  read  the  letters  in  The  Times.  She  knew  the 
stories  of  provisions  left  to  rot  upon  arrival  at  the 
front,  of  consignments  of  boots  all  found  to  be  for  the 
left  foot,  of  hospital  supplies  left  covered  with  muni- 
tions of  war  in  the  holds  of  vessels.  At  Scutari  she 
found  a  barracks  for  Turkish  soldiers  transformed  into 
a  hospital,  with  four  miles  of  corridors  in  which  there 
lay  18,000  soldiers.  And  with  but  thirty-four  nurses 
she  had  come  to  clean  this  Augean  stable.  In  the 
outcome  she  taught  the  world  that  men  and  women 
may  be  organized  to  save  life,  as  armies  long  had  been 
trained  and  organized  to  destroy  it. 

The  Crimean  letters  stirred  such  passionate  demands 
from  the  people  of  England  that  at  last  a  motion  for  an 
inquiry  into  the  state  of  the  troops  before  Sebastopol 
was  carried  in  Parliament  and  the  Aberdeen  Ministry 
was  overthrown.  The  Duke  of  Newcastle  said  later 
to  Russell:  "It  was  you  who  turned  out  the  Govern- 
ment. " 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       43 

To  be  sure  there  were  born  of  Russell's  letters  and 
of  the  policy  of  The  Times  controversies  that  continued 
for  many  years.  The  correspondent  was  accused  of 
attacking  Lord  Raglan,  even  of  hounding  him  to  death, 
and  of  going  far  beyond  his  legitimate  province  in  his 
criticisms  of  English  commanders.  Into  the  con- 
troversy this  record  of  war  correspondents  may  not 
enter.  But  it  may  be  noted  in  passing  that  Lord 
Wolseley  and  Sir  Evelyn  Wood  used  language  as 
strong  as  Russell's  in  denouncing  the  neglect  of  the 
troops.  And  it  seems  certain  that  the  facts  as  to 
conditions  on  the  plateau  at  Sebastopol  would  never 
have  been  known  save  for  the  bold  truth-telling  of  this 
newspaper  man.  He  may  have  made  some  mistakes; 
long  since  it  has  been  agreed  that  he  bravely  did  his 
duty. 

The  letters  in  which  Russell  described  the  battles 
fought  in  the  campaign  were  read  by  the  world  as  a  new 
thing  in  journalism.  So  vivid  and  comprehensive  were 
they  that  they  yet  remain  models  of  their  kind.  Their 
readers  felt  that  they  were  on  the  ground;  they  saw  the 
movements  of  the  men;  they  heard  the  cheers  of  the 
combatants;  they  saw  the  smoke  of  the  battlefield  and 
the  bursting  of  the  Russian  shells. 

When  the  battle  of  the  Alma  was  fought  on  Sep- 
tember 20,  1854,  Russell  was  with  the  cavalcade  that 
followed  Lord  Raglan  about.  An  oflScer  ordered 
Russell  away;  he  alone  had  no  recognized  business 
on  the  field.  Other  generals  also  brushed  him  aside, 
but  he  managed  to  stay  at  the  front.  In  the 
saddle  for  ten  hours,  his  horse  bleeding  from  a  cut 
in  the  leg  and  unable  longer  to  carry  him,  he  was  not 
under  the  necessity  of  the  modem  correspondent  of 
going  for  the  wire  when  the  conflict  ended,  for  there 


44       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

was  no  wire.  Next  morning  he  began  to  write  on  the 
parapet  of  a  battery,  when  an  officer  of  engineers  saw 
his  predicament,  and  had  a  plank  placed  across  two 
casks  for  a  table.  That  first  letter  never  reached 
The  Times,  but  the  second,  written  on  the  basis  of 
additional  information,  appeared  in  the  paper. 

Russell  saw  the  charges,  both  of  the  Light  Brigade 
and  of  the  Heavy  Brigade,  at  Balaclava,  and  a  few 
minutes  after  each  event  he  was  on  the  field  over  which 
they  had  dashed.  From  his  letter  there  must  be  cited 
some  passages  of  his  description  of  the  valor  of  the 
famous  Six  Hundred: 

"Lord  Lucan,  with  reluctance,  gave  the  order  to  Lord 
Cardigan  to  advance  upon  the  guns,  conceiving  that  his 
orders  compelled  him  to  do  so.  The  noble  Earl,  although 
he  did  not  shrink,  also  saw  the  fearful  odds  against  him. 
Don  Quixote  in  his  tilt  against  the  windmill  was  not  near 
so  rash  and  reckless  as  the  gallant  fellows  who  prepared 
without  a  thought  to  rush  on  almost  certain  death.  .  .  . 
There  was  a  plain  to  charge  over,  before  the  enemy's  guns 
were  reached,  of  a  mile  and  a  half  in  length. 

"At  ten  minutes  past  eleven  our  Light  Cavalry  Brigade 
advanced.  The  whole  brigade  scarcely  made  one  effective 
regiment,  according  to  the  numbers  of  continental  armies; 
and  yet  it  was  more  than  we  could  spare.  As  they  rushed 
towards  the  front,  the  Russians  opened  on  them  from  the 
guns  in  the  redoubt  on  the  right,  with  volleys  of  musketry 
and  rifles. 

"They  swept  proudly  past,  glittering  in  the  morning 
sun  in  all  the  pride  and  splendour  of  war.  We  could  scarcely 
believe  the  evidence  of  our  senses!  Surely  that  handful  of 
men  are  not  going  to  charge  an  enemy  in  position?  Alas! 
it  was  but  too  true  —  their  desperate  valor  knew  no  bounds, 
and  far  indeed  was  it  removed  from  its  so-called  better 
part  —  discretion.  They  advanced  in  two  lines,  quickening 
their  pace  as  they  closed  towards  the  enemy.  A  more  fearful 
spectacle  was  never  witnessed  than  by  those  who,  without 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       45 

the  power  to  aid,  beheld  their  heroic  countrymen  rushing 
to  the  arms  of  death.  At  the  distance  of  1200  yards  the 
whole  line  of  the  enemy  belched  forth,  from  thirty  iron 
mouths,  a  flood  of  smoke  and  flame,  through  which  hissed 
the  deadly  balls.  Their  flight  was  marked  by  instant 
gaps  in  our  ranks,  by  dead  men  and  horses,  by  steeds  flying 
wounded  or  riderless  across  the  plain. 

"The  first  line  is  broken,  it  is  joined  by  the  second,  they 
never  halt  or  check  their  speed  for  an  instant;  with  dimin- 
ished ranks,  thinned  by  those  thirty  guns,  which  the  Rus- 
sians had  laid  with  the  most  deadly  accuracy,  with  the  halo 
of  flashing  steel  above  their  heads,  and  with  a  cheer  which 
was  many  a  noble  fellow's  death-cry,  they  flew  into  the 
smoke  of  the  batteries,  but  ere  they  were  lost  from  view  the 
plain  was  strewed  with  their  bodies  and  with  the  carcasses 
of  horses.  They  were  exposed  to  an  oblique  fire  from  the 
batteries  on  the  hills  on  both  sides,  as  well  as  to  a  direct  fire 
of  musketry. 

"Through  the  clouds  of  smoke  we  could  see  their  sabres 
flashing  as  they  rode  to  the  guns  and  dashed  between  them, 
cutting  down  the  gunners  as  they  stood.  We  saw  them 
riding  through  the  guns;  to  our  delight  we  saw  them 
returning,  after  breaking  through  a  column  of  Russian 
infantry,  and  scattering  them  like  chaff,  when  the  flank  fire 
of  the  battery  on  the  hill  swept  them  down,  scattered  and 
broken  as  they  were.  Wounded  men  and  dismounted 
troopers  flying  towards  us  told  the  sad  tale  —  demi-gods 
could  not  have  done  what  we  had  failed  to  do.  At  the  very 
moment  when  they  were  about  to  retreat  an  enormous 
mass  of  Lancers  was  hurled  at  their  flank.  Colonel  Shewell 
of  the  Eighth  Hussars  saw  the  danger  and  rode  his  few 
men  straight  at  them,  cutting  his  way  through  with  fearful 
loss.  With  courage  too  great  for  credence  they  were  break- 
ing their  way  through  the  columns  which  enveloi>ed  them, 
when  there  took  place  an  act  of  atrocity  without  parallel 
in  the  modern  warfare  of  civilized  nations.  The  Russian 
gunners,  when  the  storm  of  cavalry  had  passed,  returned  to 
their  guns.  They  saw  their  own  cavalry  mingled  with 
the  troop)ers  who  had  just  ridden  over  them,  and,  to  the 
eternal  disgrace  of  the  Russian  name,  the  miscreants  poured 


46       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

a  volley  of  grape  and  canister  on  the  mass  of  struggling 
men  and  horses,  mingling  friend  and  foe  in  one  common 
ruin.  .  .  . 

"At  thirty-five  minutes  past  eleven  not  a  British  soldier, 
except  the  dead  and  dying,  was  left  in  front  of  these  bloody 
Muscovite  guns.  Captain  Nolan  was  killed  by  the  first 
shot  fired,  as  he  rode  in  advance  of  the  Hussars,  cheering 
them  on.  ..." 

Surely  the  moderns  are  not  doing  any  better  than 
Russell  in  this  Crimean  letter  at  the  beginning  of  his 
career  as  a  war  reporter.  The  letter  from  which  this 
long  excerpt  is  taken  was  written  immediately  after 
the  action.  He  had  been  all  day  without  food,  and 
he  was  "exhausted  to  the  point  of  dejection."  But 
the  mail  would  leave  in  a  few  hours,  and  write  he  must. 
With  a  saddle  for  a  seat,  his  knee  for  his  desk,  a  candle 
in  a  bottle  for  his  lamp,  he  wrote  till  the  candle  "dis- 
appeared in  the  bottle  like  a  stage  demon  through  a 
trapdoor. " 

There  were  several  famous  episodes  in  this  battle, 
and  in  one  of  Russell's  descriptive  passages  occurs  the 
classic  phrase  which  Rudyard  Kipling  has  not  allowed 
the  world  to  forget.  The  Crimean  observer  was 
indicating  the  manner  in  which  the  93d  Highlanders 
met  the  charge  of  the  Russian  cavalry.     He  said: 

"The  Russians  on  their  left  drew  breath  for  a  moment, 
and  then  in  one  grand  line  charged  towards  Balaclava.  The 
ground  flies  beneath  their  horses*  feet;  gathering  speed  at 
every  stride,  they  dash  on  towards  that  thin  red  streak 
topped  with  a  line  of  steel. " 

Later  he  changed  the  words,  and  made  the  phrase 
read,  *'the  thin  red  line  tipped  with  steel,^*  and  that 
has  become  the  standard  expression  for  the  writers 
upon  war. 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       47 

The  battle  of  Inkerman  lingered  in  Russell's  mem- 
ory long  after  many  a  later  conflict  had  been  forgotten. 
On  the  morning  of  the  battle  a  lantern  flashed  in  his 
eyes,  and  a  voice  cried,  "Get  up;  we  are  attacked.'* 
He  crammed  some  biscuit  and  cheese  into  one  holster, 
and  a  revolver  and  a  flask  of  rum  into  the  other,  and 
started.  At  dawn  he  was  under  the  heaviest  artillery 
fire  to  which  he  ever  had  been  exposed,  and  during  the 
day  he  saw  the  Sandbag  Battery  taken  and  retaken 
seven  times. 

Of  the  final  events  of  the  Crimean  war,  which 
marked  the  beginning  of  the  art  of  war  correspondence, 
Russell  saw  the  attack  upon  the  Redan  and  the  taking 
of  the  Malakoff  by  the  French,  and  the  descriptions 
he  sent  home  to  The  Times  were  among  the  most 
spirited  pieces  of  writing  ever  penned  by  a  correspond- 
ent: 

"After  hours  of  suspense  the  moment  came  at  last. 
At  five  minutes  before  twelve  o'clock  the  French,  like  a  swarm 
of  bees,  issued  forth  from  their  trenches  close  to  the  doomed 
Malakoff,  scrambled  up  its  faces  and  were  through  the 
embrasures  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  They  crossed  the 
seven  metres  of  ground  which  separated  them  from  the 
enemy  at  a  few  bounds  —  they  drifted  as  lightly  and 
quickly  as  autumn  leaves  before  the  wind,  battalion  after 
battalion,  into  the  embrasures,  and  in  a  minute  or  two 
after  the  head  of  their  column  issued  from  the  ditch  the 
tricolor  was  floating  over  the  Korniloff  Bastion. " 

The  Russians  burned  Sebastopol  and  evacuated  the 
place.  The  war  was  over.  Russell  with  great  diffi- 
culty obtained  a  passage  to  Constantinople,  and  thence 
he  made  his  way  to  England.  For  weeks  after  his 
home-coming  he  was  still  living  in  the  atmosphere 
of  war.  He  would  tumble  out  of  bed  at  all  hours 
shouting,  "Sortie!  Sortie!"  and  his  startled  wife  would 


48       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

be  soberly  assured  that  he  certainly  had  heard  musketry 
somewhere,  and  that  the  Guards  must  be  out  at  very 
early  drill. 

The  remarks  of  a  later  journalist  and  war  corre- 
spondent, George  W.  Smalley,  make  the  appropriate 
conclusion  for  this  narrative  of  Russell's  Crimean 
services: 

j  "The  one  great  triumph  of  English  journalism  in  the 
I  Crimea  .  .  .  was  due  to  the  genius  and  courage  of  one  man, 
!  Dr.  Russell.  ...  It  was  a  great  public  service,  the  greatest 
I  perhaps  which  any  journalist  in  the  field  ever  performed. 
j  But  it  was  not  exactly  journalism.  It  had  little  or  nothing 
to  do  with  speed  and  accuracy  in  the  collection  and  trans- 
mission of  news,  which,  after  all,  must  be  the  chief  business 
of  a  correspondent.  It  has  never  been  imitated.  It  never 
will  be,  till  another  Russell  appears  to  rescue  another 
British  army  in  another  Crimea.  .  .   " 

The  reporter's  obedience  to  orders  is  that  of  the 
soldier  on  duty  —  immediate,  unquestioning  and  un- 
flinching. Russell  had  a  rest  of  ten  days  and  then  was 
off  to  Russia  for  the  Czar's  coronation.  Trinity 
College  gave  him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws,  and 
"Dr."  Russell  he  remained  to  the  end  of  his  life. 
For  a  little  while  he  lectured,  but  declared  the  only 
lecture  he  had  his  heart  in  was  the  one  given  for  the 
benefit  of  his  old  friend,  Douglas  Jerrold. 

With  startling  suddenness  he  was  ordered  to  India 
to  inquire  into  the  reports  of  the  atrocities  there. 
Delane  was  fully  persuaded  that  the  suppression  of  the 
Mutiny  could  only  be  accomplished  after  a  protracted 
campaign.  Russell  obeyed  orders,  but  it  was  with  a 
breaking  heart  that  he  left  England  on  December  26, 
1857,  for  his  wife  was  too  ill  to  be  told  of  his  going  until 
some  time  after  he  had  left. 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       49 

A  journey  of  twenty-four  days  brought  him  to 
Calcutta.  Of  course  the  early  events  of  the  Mutiny 
by  that  time  were  familiar  to  the  world.  The  Mutiny 
proper  had  begun  the  preceding  May,  and  in  a  few 
weeks  90,000  native  troops  were  in  rebellion.  They 
slew  many  officers  and  hundreds  of  women  and  children. 
They  had  ammunition,  artillery,  horses  and  supplies. 
In  all  India  were  some  40,000  English  troops;  another 
40,000  were  shipped  from  England  around  Africa  and 
some  thousands  destined  for  China  were  transferred  to 
India.  Before  Russell  arrived  Havelock  had  entered 
Cawnpore,  and,  at  last,  re-enforced  by  Outram,  his 
heroic  band  of  3000  men  had  fought  their  way  to 
Lucknow,  only  in  turn  to  be  hemmed  in  and  besieged 
until  Sir  Colin  Campbell  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
Residency. 

This  time  the  way  had  been  prepared  for  the 
correspondent.  A  servant  was  awaiting  him,  who 
salaamed,  and  said:  "My  name  Simon!  Me  Master's 
servant!"  and  took  possession  of  his  belongings. 
Lord  Canning,  the  Governor-General,  was  ready  to 
aid  The  Times  man.  Soon  he  was  on  his  way  to 
Cawnpore  and  Sir  Colin  Campbell.  Almost  on  the 
instant  they  made  thii  compact:  "You  shall  know 
everything  that  is  going  on,"  said  Sir  Colin.  "You 
shall  know  all  my  reports  and  get  every  information 
that  I  have  myself,  on  condition  that  you  do  not 
mention  it  in  camp  or  let  it  be  known  in  any  way,  ex- 
cept in  your  letters  to  England,"  and  Russell  at  once 
accepted  the  terms. 

The  Commander-in-Chief  thereupon  showed  the 
correspondent  every  attention.  He  kept  Russell 
posted;  at  all  hours  of  the  day  or  night  he  would  come 
to  the  writer's  tent  with  papers  and  explain  the  situa- 


50       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

tion  of  affairs.  This  great  soldier  certainly  knew  how 
to  treat  a  newspaper  man.  A  competent  observer 
whom  Russell  met  in  India  had  this  to  say  of  the  out- 
come: *'Dr.  Russell  availed  himself  fully  of  his  priv- 
ileges without  in  any  way  abusing  his  position  .... 
He  obtained  early  and  quite  authentic  information. 
And  then  his  amazing  powers  of  observation  enabled 
him,  though  in  a  new  scene,  to  supply  backgrounds 
and  accessories  so  sympathetically  that  the  true 
Oriental  atmosphere  was  produced." 

The  Ganges  was  crossed  on  February  27,  1858,  the 
day  that  Colin  Campbell  began  the  march  for  the 
retaking  of  Lucknow.  Arrived  in  front  of  the  city, 
Russell  made  his  way  to  the  Dilkusha  where  head- 
quarters were  established.  He  crossed  a  courtyard, 
ascended  a  flight  of  steps  to  a  great  hall,  and  proceeded 
through  heaps  of  ruin,  broken  mirror-frames,  crystals 
of  chandeliers,  tapestries,  pictures  and  piles  of  furniture, 
to  the  flat  roof.  Then  a  "vision  indeed"  burst  upon 
him — 

"A  vision  of  palaces,  minars,  domes,  azure  and  golden, 
cupolas,  colonnades,  long  facades  of  fair  perspective  in  pillar 
and  column,  terraced  roofs,  all  rising  up  amid  a  calm  and 
still  ocean  of  the  brightest  verdure.  Look  for  miles  and 
miles  away  and  still  the  ocean  spreads,  and  the  towers  of 
the  fairy  city  gleam  in  its  midst.  Spires  of  gold  glitter 
in  the  sun.  Turrets  and  gilded  spheres  shine  like  constella- 
tions. " 

The  city  was  said  to  contain  about  a  million  people 
and  a  good  150,000  armed  men,  with  trenches  and 
rifle  pits  by  the  mile. 

That  roof  became  the  observation  tower  of  The 
Times  special.  From  it  he  watched  the  bombardment; 
he  dared  not  leave  it  lest  he  miss  some  important 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       51 

incident.  With  the  Commander-in-Chief  he  saw  the 
supreme  struggle  of  the  assault.  The  discipline  of  the 
army  broke  down  when  the  Kaiser-Bagh  was  taken 
and  the  wild  scene  of  pillage  that  ensued  gave  Russell 
one  of  his  best  opportunities: 

"Imagine  courts  as  large  as  the  Temple  Gardens,  sur- 
rounded with  ranges  of  palaces,  or  at  least  of  buildings 
well-stuccoed  and  gilded,  with  fresco  paintings  here  and 
there  on  the  blind-windows,  and  with  green  jalousies  and 
Venetian  blinds  closing  the  apertures  which  pierce  the  walls 
in  double  rows.  In  the  body  of  the  court  are  statues,  lines 
of  lamp-posts,  fountains,  orange-groves,  aqueducts,  and 
kiosks  with  burnished  domes  of  metal. 

"Through  these  hither  and  thither  with  loud  cries 
dart  European  and  native  soldiery  firing  at  the  windows, 
from  which  come  now  and  then  dropping  shots  or  hisses  a 
musket-ball.  At  every  door  there  is  a  crowd,  smashing  the 
panels  with  the  stocks  of  their  firelocks  or  breaking  the 
fastenings  by  discharges  of  their  weapons.  The  buildings 
which  surround  the  court  are  irregular  in  form,  for  here  and 
there  the  lines  of  the  quadrangle  are  broken  by  columned 
fronts  and  lofty  porticoes  before  the  mansions  of  the  ministry, 
or  of  the  great  officers  of  the  royal  household,  which  are 
resplendent  with  richly  gilt  roofs  and  domes. 

"Here  and  there  the  invaders  have  forced  their  way 
into  the  long  corridors,  and  you  hear  the  musketry  rattling 
inside;  the  crash  of  glass,  the  shouts  and  yells  of  the  com- 
batants, and  little  jets  of  smoke  curl  out  of  the  closed 
lattices.  Lying  amid  the  orange  groves  are  dead  and 
dying  Sepoys;  and  the  white  statues  are  reddened  with  blood. 

"Leaning  against  a  smiling  Venus  is  a  British  soldier 
shot  through  the  neck,  gasping,  and  at  every  gasp  bleeding 
to  death!  Here  and  there  officers  are  running  to  and  fro 
after  their  men,  persuading  and  threatening  in  vain.  From 
the  broken  portals  issue  soldiers  laden  with  loot.  Shawls, 
rich  tapestry,  gold  and  silver  brocade,  caskets  of  jewels, 
arms,  splendid  dresses.  The  men  are  wild  with  fury  and 
lust  of  gold  —  literally  drunk  with  plunder.  Some  come 
out  with  china  vases  or  mirrors,  dash  them  to  pieces  on 


52       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  ground,  and  return  to  seek  more  valuable  booty.  Others 
are  busy  gouging  out  the  precious  stones  from  the  stems  of 
pipes,  from  saddlecloths,  or  the  hilts  of  swords,  or  butts  of 
pistols  and  firearms.  Some  swathe  their  bodies  with  stuffs 
crusted  with  precious  metals  and  gems;  others  carry  off 
useless  lumber,  brass  pots,  pictures,  or  vases  of  jade  and 
china.  .  .  . 

"Enter  three  or  four  banditti  of Regiment.     Faces 

black  with  powder,  cross-belts  speckled  with  blood;  coats 
stuffed  out  with  all  sorts  of  valuables.  And  now  commenced 
the  work  of  plunder  before  our  very  eyes.  The  first  door 
resisted  every  sort  of  violence  till  the  rifle  muzzle  was 
placed  to  the  lock,  which  was  sent  flying  by  the  discharge 
of  the  piece.  The  men  rushed  in  with  a  shout,  and  soon 
they  came  out  with  caskets  of  jewels,  iron  boxes  and  safes, 
and  wooden  boxes  full  of  arms  crusted  with  gold  and  pre- 
cious stones.  One  fellow,  having  burst  open  a  leaden-looking 
lid,  which  was  in  reality  of  solid  silver,  drew  out  an  armlet  of 
emeralds,  diamonds  and  pearls,  so  large  that  I  really  believed 
they  were  not  real  stones,  and  that  they  formed  a  part  of  a 
chandelier  chain.  .  .  . 

"Oh,  the  toil  of  that  day!  Never  had  I  felt  such  exhaus- 
tion. It  was  horrid  enough  to  have  to  stumble  through 
endless  courts  which  were  like  vapor  baths,  amid  dead 
bodies,  through  sights  worthy  of  the  Inferno,  by  blazing  walls 
which  might  be  pregnant  with  mines,  over  breaches,  in  and 
out  of  smouldering  embrasures,  across  frail  ladders,  suffo- 
cated by  deadly  smells  of  rotting  corpses,  of  rotten  ghee,  or 
vile  native  scents;  but  the  seething  crowd  of  camp  followers 
into  which  we  emerged  was  something  worse.  As  ravenous, 
and  almost  as  foul,  as  vultures,  they  were  packed  in  a  dense 
mass  in  the  street,  afraid  or  unable  to  go  into  the  palaces, 
and  like  the  birds  thej'^  resembled  waiting  till  the  fight  was 
done  to  prey  on  their  plunder. " 

Throughout  the  day  and  the  night  the  riot  of 
pillage  continued.  The  place  was  to  Russell  a  blend 
of  the  Tuileries,  the  Louvre,  Versailles,  Scutari,  and 
the  Winter  Palace,  with  an  entourage  of  hovels  worthy 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL        53 

of  Gallipoli,  and  an  interior  of  gardens  worthy  of  Kew. 
He  wandered  through  the  zenanas;  everywhere  he 
found  materials  for  his  facile  pen.  Page  after  page  of 
the  letters  he  sent  home  is  devoted  to  the  scenes  he 
witnessed  here.  He  said  it  was  beyond  the  bounds  of 
imagination  to  reckon  the  value  of  the  property  taken 
out  of  the  city  by  soldiers  and  camp-followers. 

Sickness  attacked  the  correspondent,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  take  to  a  dooly  in  which  he  was  carried  down 
to  Cawnpore.  Upon  his  recovery  he  made  extensive 
marches  with  Sir  Colin  Campbell,  and  in  the  course 
of  one  of  them  an  accident  befell  him  from  which  he 
was  long  to  suffer.  He  was  trying  to  protect  his  horse 
from  some  "uproarious  stallions"  when  a  powerful 
Arab  kicked  him  in  the  stomach  and  thigh.  For 
days  again  he  had  to  be  carried.  He  wrote  that 
**  looking  out  from  his  portable  bedstead  he  could  see 
nothing  but  legs  of  men,  horses,  camels  and  elephants 
moving  past  in  the  dusk,"  adding  that  as  "the  trees 
were  scanty  by  the  roadside  and  there  was  no  shade 
to  afford  the  smallest  shelter  from  the  blazing  sun" 
he  had  "  all  the  sensations  of  a  man  who  is  smothering 
in  a  mud  bath." 

All  this  time  he  was  looking  for  facts  as  to  events 
which  he  had  not  witnessed  and  to  ascertain  which 
he  primarily  had  been  sent  to  India.  He  secured  a 
quantity  of  evidence  as  to  the  appalling  enormities  of 
the  Sepoys,  how  they  had  blown  English  women  from 
the  mouths  of  their  cannon  and  made  practice  targets 
of  children.  There  was  proof  enough  of  massacre  and 
barbarity,  but  Russell  would  defend  in  no  single 
sentence  the  English  policy  of  reprisals.  He  had  no 
patience  with  the  argument  that  provocation  was 
unprecedented  and  that  excess  must  be  met  with  excess. 


54       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

He  wrote:  "I  believe  we  permit  things  to  be  done  in 
India  which  we  would  not  permit  to  be  done  in  Europe, 
or  could  not  hope  to  effect  without  public  reprobation. " 
This  was  all  characteristic  of  the  independence  of 
judgment  of  this  man  of  quick  emotions  and  prompt 
actions.  But  the  officers  and  men  of  the  little  columns 
which  had  fought  their  way  through  the  masses  of 
mutineers  to  the  rescue  of  their  countrymen  had  no 
sympathy  with  his  views  and  many  of  them  and  their 
friends  criticized  him  bitterly. 

With  the  coming  of  the  "war  in  the  States"  The 
Times  requisitioned  him  once  more.  Dr.  Russell  came 
to  America  with  a  great  reputation  to  sustain,  repre- 
senting what  was  admittedly  the  most  powerful  news- 
paper in  the  world,  and  that  paper  was  defending  the 
Southern  cause.  In  the  book  which  he  published  in 
1863  containing,  in  an  amplified  and  somewhat  modi- 
fied form,  his  diaries,  he  said:  "I  had  no  theories  to  up- 
hold, no  prejudices  to  subserve,  no  interests  to  advance, 
no  instructions  to  fulfil;  I  was  a  free  agent." 

In  spite  of  the  policy  of  his  paper  he  was  received 
pleasantly  everywhere  and  invited  to  meet  the  repre- 
sentative men  of  the  nation.  But  he  was  singularly 
unlucky  during  his  stay,  and  at  times  lacking  in 
tactfulness,  while,  as  was  the  case  wherever  he  went 
for  his  paper,  he  criticized  freely  what  he  saw  that 
in  his  judgment  merited  criticism,  and  he  made  much 
of  the  more  amusing  side  of  American  life  and  man- 
ners. Immediately  he  set  about  his  work  of  investiga- 
tion and  soon  he  found  that  his  opinions  upon  various 
important  issues  were  not  those  of  the  London  daily. 
At  Washington  he  met  President  Lincoln,  Secretary 
Seward,  and  other  statesmen.  From  the  capital  he 
went  to  Baltimore,  Norfolk  and  Charleston.     He  made 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       55 

entries  in  his  diary  which  prove  that  at  least  at  the 
time  he  did  not  appreciate  the  mighty  sentiment  in 
the  North  which  at  last  would  produce  a  great  and 
victorious  army,  writing  that  "he  was  more  than 
ever  convinced  that  the  Union  could  never  be  restored 
as  it  was."  In  Montgomery  he  called  upon  Jefferson 
Davis.  He  journeyed  to  Mobile  and  in  a  small  coast- 
ing steamer  voyaged  to  Fort  Pickens.  In  New 
Orleans  he  found  Zouaves,  Chasseurs  and  Turcos 
thronging  the  streets  and  placards  of  the  organization 
of  volunteer  companies  covering  the  walls.  In  a  store 
the  mistress  and  her  sewing  girls  were  too  busy  stitch- 
ing flags  to  sell  him  some  shirts. 

Going  up  the  Mississippi  he  passed  within  the 
Federal  lines  at  Cairo.  Here  he  found  of  course  an 
amazingly  different  atmosphere.  In  New  Orleans 
the  Northerners  had  been  "assassins,"  "cutthroats," 
and  "Lincoln's  mercenaries;"  here  the  Southerners 
were  "conspirators,"  "rebels,"  and  "slave-breeders." 
By  the  third  of  July  he  was  back  in  Washington. 
Soon  there  followed  the  conflict  and  the  letter  to  The 
Times  which  gave  him  his  nickname  of  "Bull  Run 
Russell." 

By  this  time  his  paper  was  detested  throughout  the 
North  as  a  Secession  organ.  It  was  becoming  hard 
for  him  to  have  his  requests  attended  to.  How  was 
he  to  go  to  the  front  now  that  the  army  was  about  to 
move?  There  was  no  precedent  for  the  supply  of 
the  needs  of  correspondents  from  Government  stores. 
He  could  get  no  order  for  rations  for  himself  or  his 
animals.  American  newspapermen  could  get  along; 
most  of  them  had  friends  with  the  army,  but  the  case 
was  very  different  with  Russell. 

On  the  morning  of  the  19th  of  July  he  left  Washing- 


56       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ton  for  the  scene  of  the  expected  battle.  A  thirty-mile 
ride  brought  him  into  the  midst  of  "an  increasing 
stream  of  fugitives."  In  his  long  description  of  the 
events  of  the  day  he  said: 

**The  scene  on  the  road  had  now  assumed  an  aspect 
which  has  not  any  parallel  in  any  description  I  have  ever 
read.  .  .  .  Infantry  soldiers  on  mules  and  draught  horses, 
with  the  harness  clinging  to  their  heels,  as  much  frightened 
as  their  riders;  negro  servants  on  their  masters'  chargers; 
ambulances  crowded  with  unwounded  soldiers;  wagons 
swarming  with  men  who  threw  out  the  contents  into  the  road 
to  make  room,  grinding  through  a  screaming,  shouting 
mass  of  men  on  foot,  who  were  literally  yelling  with  rage 
at  every  halt.  .  .  . 

"There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  with  the  current 
one  could  not  stem.  I  turned  round  my  horse  from  the 
deserted  guns.  ...  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  this  was  a 
grand  debacle.  All  along  I  believed  that  the  mass  of  the 
army  was  not  broken,  and  that  all  I  saw  around  me  was  the 
result  of  confusion  created  in  a  crude  organization  by  a 
forced  retreat.  ..." 

Late  in  the  night  the  correspondent  got  back  into 
Washington.  In  the  morning  he  looked  through  his 
windows  upon  a  day  of  pouring  rain,  and  saw  "a  steady 
stream  of  men,  soaked  with  rain  and  covered  with  mud, 
who  were  passing  without  any  semblance  of  order  to- 
wards the  Capitol."  He  noted  that  they  belonged 
to  various  regiments,  that  many  were  without  knap- 
sacks, belts  and  muskets,  that  some  had  neither 
greatcoats  or  shoes,  and  that  others  were  covered 
with  blankets.  He  wrote  his  letter  to  The  Times, 
with  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  straggling  by  all  day 
long.  That  night  he  worked  upon  a  second  letter, 
interrupted  often  by  soldiers  who  saw  his  light  and 
came  to  ask  for  water. 

A  month  later  the  mails  brought  the  English  paper 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       57 

with  Russell's  description  of  the  rout  of  the  first 
battle  of  Bull  Run.  Instantly  the  North  burst  into 
denunciation  of  The  Times  and  its  reporter.  There 
was  scarcely  a  Union  paper  which  did  not  upbraid 
Russell.  Anonymous  letters  threatened  him  with 
bowie-knife  and  revolver.  General  McDowell,  who 
had  commanded  the  Federals  at  Bull  Rim,  said  laugh- 
ingly to  him :  "  I  must  confess  I  am  rejoiced  to  find  you 
are  as  much  abused  as  I  have  been.  .  .  .  Bull  Run  was 
an  unfortunate  affair  for  both  of  us,  for  had  I  won  it 
you  would  have  had  to  describe  the  pursuit  of  the  flying 
enemy  and  then  you  would  have  been  the  most  popular 
writer  in  America  and  I  should  have  been  lauded  as 
the  greatest  of  generals. " 

About  the  head  of  the  unhappy  special  the  storm 
raged  furiously  and  long.  Frowning  faces  were  turned 
upon  him  in  the  street.  He  was  pointed  out  in  stores 
as  "Bull  Run  Russell."  Becoming  convinced  by 
mid-September  that  General  McClellan  intended  no 
movement  for  the  time,  he  undertook  another  extended 
journey  for  the  study  of  political  conditions,  going  as 
far  as  Illinois  and  returning  by  way  of  Canada.  Back 
in  Washington  he  judged  that  McClellan  was  about 
to  move  and  his  principal  concern  therefore  was  to  get 
permission  from  Secretary  Stanton  to  go  to  the  front 
and  to  draw  rations.  No  officer  was  willing  to  assume 
any  responsibility  for  a  man  shadowed  as  was  Russell 
in  popular  estimation.  He  failed  to  obtain  permission 
to  accompany  McClellan,  and,  moreover,  orders  were 
issued  by  the  War  Department  which  prevented  his 
sailing  for  Fortress  Monroe. 

He  conceived  his  situation  had  become  untenable, 
that  his  usefulness  was  at  an  end.  He  was  identified 
with   an   opprobrious   name   and   it  seemed   to   him 


58       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

impossible  to  continue  under  such  conditions.  Early 
in  April,  1862,  he  sailed  for  home.  Letters  from 
Delane,  written  after  his  embarkation,  reached  him 
finally  in  England,  in  which  he  was  urged  not  to  think 
of  coming  back.  The  manager  and  the  editor  of  the 
paper  were  surprised  in  anything  but  an  agreeable 
fashion  when  Russell  walked  in  upon  them.  Never- 
theless these  were  appreciative  men  for  whom  he 
labored.  They  had  reminded  him  many  times  of  his 
"great  fame"  and  the  necessity  of  doing  nothing  to 
lessen  his  prestige  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  They  also 
realized  that  their  correspondent  had  done  much  for 
The  Times.  Their  good  will  found  expression  in 
November  in  a  pension  of  £300  which  they  settled 
upon  Russell  for  life  without  any  claim  upon  him  for 
labor. 

Every  American  must  regret  that  the  famous 
descriptive  writer  did  not  see  some  of  the  mighty 
struggles  of  the  Civil  War,  and  that  he  had  no  further 
chance  to  study  the  character  of  the  President.  It 
is  almost  certain,  also,  that  if  he  had  continued  in 
America  he  would  have  influenced  at  least  to  some 
extent  the  sentiments  of  his  paper.  It  has  been  said 
by  the  biographer  of  Delane  that  "Russell's  foresight 
told  him  not  only  that  the  North  must  win  in  the  end 
but  that  it  deserved  to  win,  and  his  letters  gave  no  en- 
couragement to  the  belief  which  was  shared  by  Glad- 
stone that  ultimate  victory  was  assured  to  the  South. " 
Russell  himself  in  Jime,  1865,  wrote  this  in  his  diary: 
"Had  The  Times  followed  my  advice  how  different 
our  position  would  be  —  not  only  that  of  the  leading 
journal  but  of  England." 

But  many  times  this  observer  expressed  the  con- 
viction that  the  Union  could  not  be  restored.    His 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       59 

estimates  of  situations  contained  much  that  was 
penetrating  and  much  that  was  rash.  Russell  returned 
across  the  ocean  without  having  added  to  his  fame,  to 
face  editors  who  were  chagrined  by  his  action.  It  is 
quite  certain  that  the  correspondent's  impetuosity- 
betrayed  him  in  this  instance.  Clearly  enough  he  was 
not  to  be  allowed  to  stay  with  the  Federals  at  the 
front.  But  his  duty  was,  what  is  the  duty  of  a  news- 
paper man  always,  to  await  orders  and  to  obey  them 
when  they  came  whatever  their  nature. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  Austro-Prussian  war,  in 
Jime,  1866,  he  took  the  field  again.  Arriving  at 
Vienna,  attentions  were  so  freely  bestowed  upon  him 
that  he  declared,  "It  is  almost  as  though  I  were  doing 
the  Austrians  a  service  by  being  here. "  The  Times  had 
several  men  with  the  contending  armies:  Captain 
Brackenbury  was  with  Russell  and  Captain  Hozier 
represented  the  paper  with  the  Prussians.  The  one 
great  event  of  this  Seven  Weeks'  War  was  the  Battle  of 
Sadowa,  fought  by  220,000  Austrians  and  240,000 
Prussians.  From  a  lofty  tower  Russell  beheld  one  of 
"the  most  obstinate  and  decisive  battles  of  the  world," 
looking,  he  said,  as  "if  on  a  raised  map,"  on  the  whole 
scene. 

After  the  battle  Russell  went  to  Brunn  and  the 
confusion  was  so  terrible  that  to  cover  the  thirty- 
eight  miles  fifteen  hours  were  required.  He  was  back 
in  Vienna  on  July  6  and  spent  two  days  writing  a 
full  narrative  of  the  defeat  of  Benedek  and  the  Aus- 
trians. By  the  end  of  the  month  the  war  was  over. 
Constantly  he  sent  letters  arguing  the  advantages  of 
the  "needle-gun"  and  "fixed  ammimition. "  Nor  were 
his  words  thrown  away.  They  were  cited  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  it  was  declared  to  be  prob- 


60       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ably  the  first  time  "in  which  any  newspaper  corre- 
spondent, and  that  correspondent  a  civilian,  was  spoken 
of  by  a  Minister  of  the  Crown  as  a  person  most 
capable  of  giving  an  opinion  —  and  whose  opinion  was 
entitled  to  great  weight  on  a  purely  military  subject. " 

A  few  hours  after  Louis  Napoleon  declared  war  on 
Prussia  in  1870  Russell  made  up  his  mind  to  accept 
the  proposal  of  The  Times  that  he  represent  the  paper 
in  the  campaign.  He  was  made  welcome  at  Berlin 
and  at  Potsdam,  and  Bismarck  received  him  "with 
the  most  charming  frankness."  He  had  his  troubles 
before  he  made  satisfactory  connections  with  the 
army,  but  he  was  on  the  move  with  the  headquarters 
staff  before  any  fighting  of  consequence  took  place. 

The  night  before  Sedan  he  was  sent  for  and  a  hint 
given  him  as  to  what  he  might  look  for  next  day  — 
what  the  present  day  reporters  call  a  "tip."  Luck 
led  him  through  the  mists  of  the  following  dawn  to  a 
ridge  where  he  found  King  William  himself  with 
Moltke  and  Bismarck  and  others  of  distinction, 
among  them  General  "Phil"  Sheridan.  Russell  stayed 
some  time  near  the  King.  He  was  watching  the 
monarch  and  his  two  attendants,  "the  three  terrible 
Fates  before  whose  eyes  the  power  of  France  was 
being  broken  to  atoms."  He  says:  "I  sat  surrounded 
by  officers  more  excited  than  myself,  whose  eyes  roamed 
over  the  battle-field,  and  whose  lips  quivered  as  they 
whispered  like  men  in  deep  suspense,  'The  French  are 
making  a  great  stand  there.  It  is  a  hard  fight.  See 
how  grave  His  Majesty  is!'  "  Not  only  did  Russell 
observe;  he  was  himself  observed.  "The  men  who  are 
around  me,"  he  said,  "gaze  curiously  as,  with  watch 
in  hand,  I  note  down  every  five  minutes  the  apparent 
changes  in  the  fight." 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       61 

A  while  before  noon  Russell's  friend  Seekendorf 
guided  him  to  the  observation  point  from  which  the 
Crown  Prince  was  watching.  Here  he  could  follow 
yet  more  completely  the  desperate  fighting  of  the 
French.  Gradually  the  German  circle  was  closed  in 
about  the  doomed  Emperor.  In  his  little  notebook, 
from  which  he  tore  a  sheet  at  a  time  to  be  stored 
away  in  an  envelope  ready  for  mailing,  he  wrote: 
"The  toils  were  closing  around  the  prey.  Indeed,  it 
occurred  to  me  over  and  over  again  that  I  was  looking 
at  some  of  those  spectacles  familiar  to  Indian  sports- 
men, where  the  circle  of  hunters  closes  gradually  in  on 
the  wild  beast  marked  in  his  lair.  The  angry,  despairing 
rushes  of  the  French  here  and  there  —  the  convulsive 
struggles  at  one  point  —  the  hasty  and  tumultuous 
flight  from  others  —  gave  one  the  idea  of  the  supreme 
efforts  of  some  wounded  tiger." 

The  Crown  Prince  summoned  him  to  dine  with 
him  that  night,  and  then  Russell  learned  that 
Napoleon  III.  was  a  captive.  Two  days  later  occurred 
the  famous  and  amusing  incident  of  the  competition 
with  Hilary  Skinner  of  the  Daily  News  to  be  first  in 
London  with  a  complete  account  of  the  battle. 

The  story  is  one  of  the  best  in  its  entertaining 
aspect  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  war  correspondence. 
Says  Russell: 

"There  Mr.  Skinner  and  myself  sat  writing,  or  pretend- 
ing to  write,  for  hours,  he  having  decided  on  the  same  plan 
that  I  had  conceived  and  wishing  to  conceal  any  indication 
of  it,  and  I  equally  reticent  as  to  my  intentions,  but  haunted 
by  the  notion  that  he  had  divined  my  purpose.  The  church 
clock  struck  and  recorded  the  flight  of  one  hour  after  the 
other;  I  could  see  that  my  colleague's  eyes  were  now  and 
then  scanning  my  face  as  I  wrote.  The  candles  burnt 
low.  .  .  .  He  made  up  his  packet.     Tf  you  finish  in  five 


62       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

minutes,'  said  he,  *I  will  wait  for  your  letter  and  take  it 
to  the  field  post  where  they  know  me  and  will  take  it  in  order 
to  oblige  me;  otherwise  you  are  late.'  I  was  Very  much 
obliged'  of  course,  but  said  recklessly  that  I  could  not  finish 
in  time,  and  could  not  send  by  that  mail  at  all. " 

The  Daily  News  man  disappeared  for  a  space, 
returning  to  find  The  Times  correspondent  seemingly 
asleep.  Next  morning  the  one  special  asked  the  other 
in  the  most  innocent  manner  what  he  had  done  with 
his  letter.  He  was  told  that  it  had  been  deposited 
in  the  mail  after  all,  having  been  sent  while  he  had 
been  out  the  night  before. 

At  the  same  instant  their  horses  were  led  forth,  and 
the  holsters  and  pockets  were  stuffed  with  food.  The 
Daily  News  and  The  Times  would  "just  have  a  look  at 
the  field."  One  decided  to  ride  into  the  town  for  a 
cup  of  tea.  The  other  decided  he  would  have  one 
also.  Riding  out  of  the  town  side  by  side,  as  by  a 
common  impulse,  The  Times  and  the  Daily  News 
looked  full  into  each  other's  faces.  Then  the  decep- 
tion broke  down  and  they  burst  into  peals  of  laughter. 
Each  had  intended  from  the  very  first  to  go  right 
through  to  London.     They  went  on  together. 

Now  Russell  was  to  begin  a  course  of  bitter  experi- 
ences. He  found  that  the  papers  of  two  days  before 
had  had  telegrams  about  the  battle,  and  that  the 
enormous  disaster  which  had  befallen  France  was 
news  of  the  day  before  yesterday,  which  is  called 
nowadays  in  newspaper  offices  "ancient  history." 
Russell,  however,  had  brought  the  first  comprehensive 
account  of  the  whole  great  series  of  events.  He  had 
written  much  of  the  story  on  the  way  and  he  dictated 
the  rest  until  the  hour  the  paper  was  obliged  to  go  to 
press. 


Sm  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       63 

But  Russell  saw  that  times  had  changed;  the  world 
wanted  every  morning  at  breakfast  news  of  the  battles 
fought  the  day  before.  The  old  postal  methods  of 
sending  tidings  were  becoming  antiquated.  He  had 
been  accustomed  to  send  complete  accounts  of  the 
scenes  he  had  witnessed,  written  with  care  both  as  to 
accuracy  and  style;  now  the  struggle  was  to  be  first 
with  the  leading  fact.  Who  won?  Get  that  on  the 
wire.  Then  if  more  facts  could  be  sent,  give  in  the 
simplest  schoolboy  English  the  numbers  killed,  wounded 
and  captured,  and  the  disposition  of  the  armies  after 
the  battle.  Russell  had  cultivated  his  self-respect 
by  making  his  work  the  best  possible  for  him  to  do, 
but  letters  lost  their  power  when  they  came  the  day 
after  the  publication  of  even  the  most  wretchedly 
composed  article  which  nevertheless  contained  the 
fundamental  facts.  Editors  were  beginning  to  clamor 
for  speed. 

As  Russell  settled  down  to  watch  the  siege  of  Paris 
he  found  the  new  conditions  yet  more  impressive. 
There  were  scores  of  correspondents  about  and  they 
were  on  the  alert  night  and  day  to  hold  their  own 
against  each  other.  Archibald  Forbes  was  laying  the 
foundation  for  his  great  reputation  and  the  despatches 
of  the  Daily  News  were  the  amazement  of  London. 
The  manager  of  The  Times  wrote  Russell,  "The  express 
manager  of  the  D.  N,  is  more  acute  than  we  are 
here,  or  else  he  has  the  devil's  own  luck,"  and  again, 
"I  beg  you  to  use  the  tehgTSLph  freely, " 

When  the  King  of  Prussia  with  Bismarck  and 
Moltke  arrived  at  Versailles  they  treated  Russell  with 
so  much  cordiality  that  Matthew  Arnold  indulged 
in  the  well-known  bit  of  satire,  about  the  King  hoisting 
the  correspondent  into  the  saddle  while  Bismarck  held 


64       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

his  horse.  But  with  all  these  gratifying  attentions 
Russell  was  sorely  perplexed  and  annoyed.  The 
Daily  News  kept,  on  scoring;  he  could  not  penetrate 
the  secret.  At  one  time  he  believed  that  the  ambu- 
lance men  and  even  the  nuns  were  used  as  despatch 
bearers.  How  else  could  these  messages  get  through 
with  such  celerity?  The  manager  and  the  reporter 
constantly  exchanged  letters  of  chagrin.  They  were 
determined  that  something  big  must  be  "pulled  off" 
before  the  end  to  redeem  their  prestige. 

There  is  no  question  that  Russell  could  not  have 
worked  by  the  methods  of  his  rival.  He  aimed  at 
comprehensiveness  and  accuracy,  and  Forbes,  remark- 
able as  were  his  letters,  had  to  sacrifice  in  some  degree 
these  values.  And  all  the  luck  was  against  Russell, 
seemingly.  His  messengers  were  delayed,  and  one, 
a  lady,  was  captured  and  subjected  to  considerable 
annoyance.  The  perplexed  special  continued  to  send 
brilliant  narratives  to  London,  however.  He  saw  the 
proclamation  of  Wilhelm  as  German  Emperor  in  the 
Palace  at  Versailles. 

From  his  spirited  description  of  the  scene  a  few 
sentences  may  be  cited: 

"This  gallery  was  expressly  devoted  to  the  glorification 
of  Louis  XIV.  It  is  a  blaze  of  gilding,  mirrors,  allegorical 
pictures,  glass  panels, —  which  now  encadred  the  black- 
robed  Lutheran  priests  and  the  steel-bearing  soldiers  of 
Germany.  .  .  . 

"On  the  right  of  the  King  was  the  Crown  Prince  in  the 
uniform  of  a  Field-Marshal,  and  then  right  and  left  were 
the  leaders  of  the  hosts  which  have  made  that  King  Emperor. 
Or  —  stay !  was  it  he  who  stands  there  apart  —  not  a  soul 
near  him  by  a  yard  in  all  that  vast  throng  —  stands  there 
proudly  in  front  of  the  extreme  left  of  the  semicircle  of 
which  the  King  is  the  centre  —  so  deadly  pale  —  yet  firmly 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       65 

planted  on  his  massive  legs  as  a  man  of  iron  —  with  one 
hand  on  the  pommel  of  his  sword  —  the  soldier-minister 
who  has  risen  from  a  bed  of  pain  to  assist  at  the  work  of 
which  he  has  at  least  some  share.  Count  Bismarck?  .  .  . 

"And  then  amid  such  waving  of  swords  and  helmets, 
hurrahs  as  meetly  greet  great  conquerors,  Wilhelm,  King  of 
Prussia,  was  hailed  Emperor  of  Germany,  and  with  tearful 
eyes  received  the  congratulations  of  Princes,  Dukes  and 
Lords  of  the  Empire.  .  .  .'* 

At  last  a  bit  of  luck  was  vouchsafed  to  Russell. 
In  the  street  he  met  a  friend  who  was  extremely 
agitated.  The  correspondent  was  besought  to  say 
what  it  meant  that  Jules  Favre  was  there.  Russell 
was  astounded.  At  headquarters  he  obtained  con- 
firmation of  the  information.  Immediately  he  sent 
off  a  telegram  that  negotiations  had  begun  for  the 
capitulation  of  Paris.  The  presence  of  Favre  in 
Versailles  could  mean  nothing  else.  Now  the  manager 
of  the  paper  was  able  to  write  Russell  congratulations 
on  a  clean  "scoop." 

What  was  fondly  hoped  would  be  the  means  of 
giving  The  Times  the  first  account  of  the  formal  entry 
of  the  Germans  into  Paris  was  planned  with  great  care 
by  the  anxious  correspondent.  For  him  that  March  1, 
1871,  was  a  day  of  severe  stress.  He  saw  the  30,000 
Prussians  and  Bavarians  march  past  the  grandstand 
at  Longchamps  and  arrive  at  the  Arc  de  Triomphe. 
Twice  on  his  way  to  the  Embassy  to  write  his  account 
he  was  stopped  by  furious  Frenchmen.  For  a  time  he 
was  in  danger;  the  crowds  were  beyond  control.  He 
got  rid  of  his  horse  for  on  foot  he  attracted  less 
attention.  As  no  time  remained  to  to  go  the  Embassy, 
he  hurried  to  meet  the  traveling  companion  who  was 
to  be  his  amanuensis,  and  they  scurried  for  the  Gare  du 
Nord  whence  a  special  train  was  to  carry  them  to  Calais. 


66       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Once  aboard  the  train  Russell  dictated  until  the 
port  was  reached  and  a  special  steamer  took  the  sheets 
across  the  Channel.  But  he  had  not  finished,  and  by  wire 
he  sent  the  balance,  writing  sheet  after  sheet  until  far 
beyond  midnight.  Even  then  The  Times  did  not  make 
a  clean  score.  For,  as  has  been  told  in  another  chapter, 
Forbes  made  the  trip  through  to  London,  and  was 
suspected,  indeed,  of  having  traveled  as  a  fireman 
aboard  Russell's  special  train. 

After  all,  he  came  out  of  the  war  with  laurels 
dimmed  but  little,  and  his  manager  wrote  him  "there  is 
general  consent  about  the  superiority  of  an  old  hand  who 
goes  by  the  name  of  'Little  Billee.' "  And  Bismarck 
in  his  "Autobiography"  has  this  remark:  "Russell 
.  .  .  was  usually  better  informed  than  myself  as  to 
views  and  occurrences  .  .  .  and  was  a  useful  source 
of  intelligence." 

There  is  much  of  interest  and  much  that  suggests  the 
varied  usefulness  of  a  competent  special  in  the 
story  of  the  years  that  remained  to  Russell  after  this 
war  was  over.  He  made  the  tour  of  India,  Egypt, 
Greece  and  Portugal,  with  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Then 
once  more  he  started  on  the  war  path.  It  was  in 
1879  that  his  friends  were  astonished  to  learn  that  he 
was  going  to  South  Africa  with  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley 
for  the  Daily  Telegraph,  The  Times  did  not  require 
him  and  he  considered  himself  at  liberty  to  make  other 
engagements,  although  the  journal  which  he  had 
served  so  long  was  not  very  pleased  at  his  decision. 
The  Zulu  war  was  about  over  when  he  arrived  on  the 
scene.  His  leg  had  never  mended  entirely  from  the 
kick  of  the  stallion  and  an  accident  while  crossing 
a  swollen  stream  now  lamed  him  for  life.  The  only 
important  incident  for  Russell  in  the  campaign  had  to 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWARD  RUSSELL       67 

do  with  the  charges  of  misbehavior  which  he  brought 
against  some  of  the  British  troops,  and  out  of  which 
came  a  protracted  controversy  with  Lord  Wolseley. 

In  Egypt  in  1882  the  veteran  found  himself  in  the 
presence  of  war,  yet  without  any  professional  part 
in  it.  He  made  a  tour  with  Colonel  North,  "the 
Nitrate  King,"  in  Chile,  in  1889.  The  Queen's 
Jubilee  came  on  and  The  Times  turned  to  him  for  the 
description  of  the  principal  ceremonies,  but  his  strength 
was  on  the  wane  and  he  declined  the  commission. 
The  very  last  entry  in  his  copious  diaries  was  made 
imder  date  of  December  21,  1904,  but  it  was  more 
than  two  years  later,  on  February  2,  1907,  that  he 
died. 

"Billy''  Russell  was  the  kind  of  man  who  would  win 
and  deserve  such  an  affectionate  nickname.  E.  L. 
Godkin  has  written  of  his  social  qualities,  his  fund  of 
Irish  humor  and  his  great  abundance  of  good  stories 
which  he  related  with  inimitable  drollery.  And 
Kinglake  says  he  was  "a  great  humorist,  and,  more, 
an  Irish  humorist,  whose  very  tones  fetched  a  laugh." 
Both  these  writers  pay  tribute  to  his  ability  to  pen 
powerful  narratives  and  maintain  his  opinions  in  the 
face  of  criticism.  That  distinguished  English  officer. 
Sir  Evelyn  Wood,  said  that  he  "combined  the  accuracy 
of  an  Englishman,  the  shrewdness  of  a  Scotchman, 
and  the  humorous  wit  of  an  Irishman."  Five  Euro- 
pean countries,  besides  England,  bestowed  orders  upon 
him;  in  1895  he  was  knighted,  and  in  1902  King  Edward 
slipped  over  his  head  the  ribbon  of  the  C.  V.  O., 
whispering  meantime  to  the  veteran  of  eighty  years 
who  had  been  his  intimate  friend,  "Don't  kneel, 
Billy,  stoop,"  and  giving  him  a  warm  grasp  of  the 
hand. 


68       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

A  great  gift  for  prolonged  and  keen  observation, 
a  gift  equally  great  for  picturesque  writing,  a  decided 
knack  for  friendship,  a  mind  of  no  mean  calibre  and 
an  almost  unlimited  capacity  for  toil,  boldness  which 
sometimes  became  impetuosity,  absolute  independence 
of  judgment;  these  were  some  of  the  qualities  which 
met  in  rare  combination  in  William  Howard  Russell. 

To  few  newspaper  men  is  there  given  such  an 
opportunity  as  came  to  him  in  the  Crimea.  His 
chief  distinction  always  will  be  that  he  told  England 
the  truth  about  the  horrors  of  that  winter  on  the 
plateau  before  Sebastopol  and  saved  for  his  country 
the  remnants  of  her  army.  It  may  well  be  that  the 
majority  will  agree  with  the  verdict  inscribed  upon  the 
memorial  in  the  crypt  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral: 

"THE  FIRST  AND  GREATEST  OF  WAR 
CORRESPONDENTS. " 


CHAPTER  III 
ARCHIBALD  FORBES 

"  The  incomparable  Archibald " 

—  William  Howard  Russell. 

"The  most  remarkable  personality  I  have  come  across  was  the  late 
Archibald  Forbes.  ,  .  .  He  was  by  nature  an  ideal  war  correspondent,  for 
he  could  do  more  work,  both  mentally  and  physically,  on  the  smallest  pos- 
sible amount  of  food,  than  any  man  I  ever  met.  Amidst  the  noise  and 
din  of  battle,  and  in  close  proximity  to  bursting  shells,  whose  dust  would 
sometimes  fall  upon  the  paper,  I  have  seen  him  calmly  writing  his  descrip- 
tion of  the  battle,  not  taking  notes  to  be  worked  up  afterwards,  but  actu- 
ally writing  the  vivid  account  that  was  to  be  transmitted  to  the  wire,  and 
that  work  was  always  good.  His  one  great  aim  was  to  get  the  first  and 
best  news  home  of  any  fighting  that  might  take  place,  and  he  never  spared 
himself  till  this  was  done.  It  was  a  sheer  impossibility  for  a  colleague  to 
compete  successfully  with  Forbes.  .  .   .** 

— Frederic  VUliers. 

In  Fleet  Street  in  the  city  of  London  a  man  stands 
spinning  copper  coins  and  watching  them  as  they  fall 
upon  the  pavement  at  his  feet.  Upon  the  toss  of 
those  coins  depends  his  future,  a  fact  which  he  appre- 
hends but  dimly,  although  he  already  has  laid  the 
solid  foundations  of  the  career  which  is  to  make  him 
famous  as  one  of  the  most  enterprising  and  capable  of 
war  correspondents. 

He  has  news  in  his  possession  on  this  September  day 
of  1870,  news  of  enormous  interest  to  the  whole 
world.  The  Germans  are  at  the  gates  of  Paris.  Some 
of  the  most  momentous  events  of  the  century  are  im- 
pending. And  this  aggressive  looking  man,  "in 
somewhat  dilapidated  boots,"  impatiently  flipping 
coins  in  a  busy  London  thoroughfare,  has  in  his  keep- 
ing the  information  for  which  all  Jjondon  is  waiting; 


70       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

indeed,  he  is  the  sole  man  in  the  city,  aside  from  the 
German  Embassy,  who  can  tell  how  the  German 
troops  are  disposed  in  the  cordon  which  they  are  weav- 
ing coil  upon  coil  about  the  French  capital. 

Twice  he  has  tried  to  market  his  wares.  He  has 
offered  his  story  to  James  Grant,  editor  of  the  Morning 
Advertiser,  the  paper  which  a  few  weeks  before- had  sent 
him  to  observe  the  movements  of  the  German  armies  at 
the  beginning  of  the  war,  and  Mr.  Grant  has  rather 
curtly  declined  the  article.  He  goes  to  The  Times  with 
his  offer  of  news,  hastily  scrawling  on  a  visiting  card: 
"Left  German  front  before  Paris  three  days  ago,  pos- 
sessed of  exclusive  information  as  to  disposition  for 
beleaguerment. "  And  a  doorkeeper  comes  back  and 
says  that  "the  proper  course  is  to  write  the  article  in 
the  ordinary  way,  when  the  editor  will  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  judging  of  its  eligibility." 

The  man  from  the  front  is  chagrined  and  some- 
what bewildered.  Is  it  possible  that  editors  have 
lost  the  scent  for  news?  Can  they  not  spare  the  time, 
even  in  the  early  part  of  the  day,  at  least  briefly  to 
quiz  a  man  who  claims  to  have  tidings  that  ought  to 
be  the  big  news  feature  of  the  daihes  the  following 
morning? 

He  will  make  one  more  try,  just  one.  He  will  not 
hawk  his  wares  all  over  Fleet  Street.  There  are  three 
other  daily  papers,  the  Daily  News,  The  Daily  Tele- 
graph, and  The  Standard.  The  coins  shall  determine 
to  which  of  the  three  he  goes.  If  once  more  he  is 
"turned  down"  he  thinks  in  his  soreness  of  spirit 
he  will  go  back  to  the  weary  drudgery  of  compiling 
the  marriage  and  death  notices  of  the  London  Scotsman, 
the  little  paper  which  he  has  started  with  his  own 
money  and  to  which  he  has  been  the  sole  contributor. 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  71 

All  three  papers  are  strange  to  him,  except  that  the 
Daily  News  has  once  paid  him  nine  pence  for  a  para- 
graph. By  the  simple  process  of  elimination  known  as 
"odd  man  out,"  the  Daily  News  wins  the  toss,  and  to 
the  Daily  News  in  Bouverie  Street  goes  Archibald 
Forbes  with  his  "scoop." 

He  asks  for  "Mr.  Robinson,"  having  a  casual 
recollection  of  having  heard  the  name  mentioned  in 
connection  with  the  daily.  There  is  a  "Mr.  Robin- 
son, a  quiet-mannered  man,  with  a  high  forehead, 
who  looks  steadily  at  him  through  spectacles  as  he 
speaks,  and  makes  reply  in  these  terms:  *Yes,  that 
sounds  very  interesting  and  valuable.  Will  you 
oblige  me  by  writing  three  columns  on  the  subject, 
and  will  you  consider  five  guineas  a  column  adequate 
remimeration?'  " 

To  his  chambers  in  Tudor  Street  goes  Forbes  to 
prepare  his  copy,  and  every  hour  a  boy  comes  round  to 
carry  it  to  the  offices  of  the  Daily  News.  "In  those 
days,"  Forbes  said  years  after,  "I  had  the  gift  of 
writing  like  a  whirlwind,  and  I  always  found  that  the 
faster  I  wrote  the  better  I  wrote.  ...  In  three  hours' 
time  or  thereabouts  I  had  written  the  allotted  three 
columns,  but  the  canvas  allowed  me  would  not  hold 
half  the  picture.  ...  I  determined  I  would  go  round 
and  see  this  considerate  Mr.  Robinson,  and  offer, 
rather  than  spoil  my  picture,  to  finish  it  in  a  fourth 
gratuitous  column  if  he  would  have  the  charity  to 
spare  me  the  space." 

He  finds  an  acting  editor  reading  proofs.  It  is  his 
copy.  To  his  query  the  acting  editor  says:  "We'll 
take  as  much  of  this  kind  of  stuff  as  you  care  to  write. " 
That  laconic  utterance  is  the  warrant  for  three  more 


72       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

columns,  and  all  six  columns  are  read  with  intense 
interest  by  all  England  next  day. 

But  next  day  there  is  another  episode  that  nearly 
ruptures  the  relations  tentatively  established  between 
Forbes  and  the  paper  the  night  before.  Forbes  had 
read  his  proofs  and  gone  away  from  the  office  walking 
on  air.  He  breakfasts  next  morning  with  one  of  the 
editors  and  a  subject  for  a  further  contribution  is  decided 
upon.  Later  he  calls  at  the  office  and  is  shown  in  to 
"Mr.  Robinson,"  the  man  known  to  the  world  as  Sir 
John  Robinson,  a  veteran  of  the  newspaper  field  and  a 
journalist  of  the  first  ability,  who  says  with  a  little 
drawl:  **I  don't  think  we'll  trouble  you  to  write  those 
contributions. " 

Forbes  is  astonished.  His  temper  gets  the  better 
of  him.  These  editors  are  making  a  fool  of  him.  He 
consigns  "Mr.  Robinson,"  in  language  more  vigorous 
than  courteous,  to  a  region  where  coal  is  not  a  com- 
modity of  commerce,  and  hustles  downstairs  and  into 
the  street.  Up  Bouverie  Street  he  strides,  fuming  be- 
hind his  beard,  when  a  hand  comes  down  on  his 
shoulder,  and  a  voice  says:  "Don't  be  a  fool!  I  was 
going  to  say  that  I  want  you  to  start  tonight  for  Metz. " 

Forbes  that  evening  at  seven  meets  Robinson. 
The  editor  wishes  him  luck  and  fills  his  pockets  with 
banknotes.  When  he  leaves  England  that  night 
by  mail  steamer  his  career  as  a  war  correspondent  really 
has  begun. 

Sir  John  Robinson  also  tells  the  story  in  his  remin- 
iscences. Long  before  his  vigilant  eye  had  noted  an 
article  in  a  small  magazine  written  by  a  man  whose 
name  he  took  pains  to  ascertain.  When  Forbes's 
name  came  in  that  day  at  the  office  he  knew  his  man 
and  struck  his  hands  together  with  pleasure.     He  saw 


?*>?vi 


ARCHIBALD   FORBES 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  7B 

that  the  man  whom  later  he  called  "the  wonderful 
Forbes"  was  "not  in  the  best  of  tempers,"  but  when 
the  errand  was  stated  he  "could  scarcely  conceal  his 
excitement  and  anticipation."  But  the  editor's  mem- 
ory differed  from  that  of  Forbes  as  to  one  or  two 
particulars.  Sir  John  in  his  book  thinks  that  a  room 
was  assigned  for  Forbes  in  the  newspaper  plant  and 
that  a  steak  was  sent  in  to  him;  also  that  the  reporter 
did  not  bolt  into  the  street,  but  that  they  had  it  out  in 
the  editorial  offices.  However,  while  in  their  printed 
tales  they  differ  in  these  respects,  they  agree  in  the 
essential  facts  that  a  windfall  of  fortune  gave  Forbes 
to  the  Daily  News  and  that  the  Daily  News  very 
nearly  lost  him  over  a  petty  misunderstanding.  In 
later  years  Forbes  made  this  comment  upon  the  engage- 
ment he  made  that  day  to  serve  the  Daily  News  at 
£20  a  week: 

"It  is  possible  that  had  I  declined  I  might  have  been 
a  happier  man  today.  I  might  have  been  a  haler  man  than 
I  am  at  forty-five,  my  nerve  gone,  and  my  physical  energy 
but  a  memory.  Yet  the  recompense!  To  have  lived  ten 
lives  in  as  many  short  years;  to  have  held  once  and  again 
in  the  hollow  of  my  hand  the  exclusive  power  to  thrill  the 
nations;  to  have  looked  into  the  very  heart  of  the  turning- 
points  of  nations  and  of  dynasties!  What  joy  equal  to  the 
thrilling  sense  of  personal  force,  as  obstacle  after  obstacle 
fell  behind  one  conquered,  as  one  galloped  from  the  battle- 
field with  tidings  which  people  awaited  hungeringly  or 
tremblingly!" 

How  did  Forbes  come  to  be  possessed  of  information 
and  of  powers  of  rapid  narration  that  made  him  on 
twenty-foiu*  hours'  notice  a  war  reporter  for  a  paper 
of  great  prestige  whose  war  news  was  the  talk  of  the 
town?  It  was  rather  by  what  seemed  a  chance  com- 
bination of  circumstances    than   by  deliberate    mold- 


74       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ing  of  events  to  a  predetermined  purpose.  He  had 
been  something  of  a  drifter,  somewhat  reckless  of 
consequences,  and  a  bit  impatient  of  the  methodical 
organizing  of  life. 

He  was  one  of  the  men  who  thrust  poverty  upon 
themselves.  His  father  was  a  Presbyterian  clergyman 
in  the  north  of  Scotland.  At  Aberdeen  the  boy 
excelled  in  the  classics,  but  his  dislike  of  mathematics 
was  so  great  that  in  later  years  one  of  the  professors 
would  not  consent  to  the  bestowal  of  an  honorary 
Doctor  of  Laws  upon  him  because  he  had  been 
"ploughed"  in  his  mathematical  examinations.  When 
his  father  died,  leaving  but  little  money  and  nine 
children,  Forbes  went  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  spent 
all  his  funds  before  he  chose  a  profession.  And  when 
upon  his  majority  in  1859  £2500  fell  to  him  he  went 
to  Canada  where  a  love  affair  in  Quebec  is  said  to  have 
made  havoc  of  his  good  intentions,  so  that  with  but 
eight  shillings  in  his  pocket  he  shipped  as  a  sailor  for 
Liverpool.  The  sale  of  a  field  glass  got  him  the  money 
to  go  on  to  London,  and  there  he  enlisted  in  the  Royal 
Dragoons,  moved  by  a  lecture  of  William  Howard 
Russell's,  and  by  the  description  of  the  charge  of  the 
Light  Brigade  which  that  reporter  of  wars  had  written. 

Soon  he  came  to  realize  that  wild  and  desperate 
charges  are  made  but  seldom  and  that  the  life  in 
barracks  furnishes  but  little  copy  for  the  papers.  As 
an  educated  man  he  became  the  school-teacher  for  his 
company  and  the  acting  quarter-master  sergeant,  an 
appointment  due  to  his  ability  to  solve  the  following 
terrific  problem:  "K  one  man  is  allowed  the  thirty- 
seventh  part  of  an  ounce  of  pepper  per  day,  what  is  the 
amount  to  be  drawn  for  two  hundred  men  per  week?" 
Several  articles,  written  in  the  din  and  turmoil  of  the 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  75 

barrack  room,  appeared  in  the  periodicals.  It  was  one  of 
these  that  drew  the  attention  of  Sir  John  Robinson. 
After  five  years  Forbes's  health  broke  down,  and  then 
after  many  months  in  an  army  hospital  he  audaciously 
started  the  London  Scotsman,  of  which  he  was  the  sole 
proprietor  and  the  entire  staff.  He  even  leased  two 
hours  a  day  of  the  time  of  a  veteran  of  the  Indian 
Mutiny  and  on  this  basis  wrote  a  novel  which  Sir 
Henry  Havelock  declared  must  have  been  written  by 
a  deserter,  so  complete  was  its  local  color. 

The  battle  scenes  of  this  tale  procured  for  the 
author  his  first  commission  as  a  war  correspondent. 
A  considerable  amount  of  casual  work  had  been  given 
him  by  James  Grant  of  the  Morning  Advertiser,  and  on 
the  day  in  1870  that  France  declared  war '  against 
Germany  Mr.  Grant  said  to  him:  "I've  concluded  to 
offer  you  a  position  as  war  correspondent.  Choose 
whichever  side  you  prefer."  Said  Forbes  in  later 
years : 

"Far  off,  as  a  child  might  sigh  for  the  moon,  this  work 
had  been  the  dream  of  my  life,  ever  since  I  had  come  to 
realize  I  could  write  matter  that  men  would  print  and  that 
other  men  would  read.  It  had  never  been  more  than  a 
dream.  ...  I  grasped  Grant's  hand  in  a  rapture  of  gratitude; 
I  stipulated  for  no  remuneration  save  that  he  should  pay  a 
modest  subsidy  for  the  maintenance  of  those  I  was  leaving 
behind.  I  took  £10  for  outfit  and  £20  in  my  pocket  as 
campaigning  expenses;  bought  a  knapsack  and  note-book, 
and  started  by  the  mail  train  (second  class)  the  same  night.  ** 

Forbes  had  studied  German  tactics;  he  knew 
something  of  the  German  language,  and  he  was  con- 
fident the  Germans  would  win.  He  went  at  once  to 
Saarbrlick  where  he  witnessed  the  "baptism  of  fire" 
on  August  2. 

Experienced  correspondents  would  have  told  him 


76       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

many  things  about  credentials,  what  the  Germans 
called  "legitimation, "  the  necessary  permits  to  go  along 
with  the  armies  in  the  field.  The  veterans  in  the 
profession  were  waiting  outside  office  doors  for  their 
papers,  while  Forbes,  with  the  audacity  of  ignorance, 
called  upon  General  von  Goeben  on  the  way  through 
Coblentz  to  the  front,  and  got  a  scrap  of  paper  by 
virtue  of  which  he  saw  about  all  there  was  to  see  up  to 
Gravelotte.  And  when  after  Gravelotte  he  got  the 
voucher  known  as  the  "Great  Headquarters  Pass," 
signed  by  the  grand-quartermaster-general  of  King 
Wilhelm's  staff,  he  got  it  not  by  influence  or  intrigue, 
but  by  the  most  direct  methods.  He  simply  called 
at  the  proper  bureau,  left  the  Von  Goeben  credential, 
came  back  in  an  hour,  and  found  the  impressive- 
looking   and   precious    "legitimation"    awaiting   him. 

Luck  seemed  to  befriend  him  throughout  the 
campaign;  indeed,  no  war  correspondent  ever  was 
luckier  than  Archibald  Forbes.  He  had  the  knack 
of  turning  up  at  the  right  time  in  the  right  place.  He 
was  a  raw  recruit,  but  he  was  daring  and  resourceful. 
Also  he  had  the  valuable  faculty  of  making  friends. 
With  Jacob  de  Liefde  of  the  Glasgow  Herald  he  made 
his  way  as  a  reckless  pedestrian  "into  the  very  heart  of 
everything  that  was  most  sensational  in  those  sensa- 
tional days." 

He  sent  his  paper  from  the  first  good  stirring 
pictures  of  events.  Men  were  delighted  with  his 
accounts  of  the  battles  of  Courcelles,  Vionville,  and 
Gravelotte.  As  an  example,  this  is  what  they  read 
of  the  climax  of  the  last-named  struggle.  It  is  a 
famous  passage: 

"The  long  summer  day  was  waning  into  dusk,  and  the 
fortunes  of  the  battle  still  trembled  in  the  balance,  when 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  77 

the  last  reserve  of  the  Germans  came  hurrying  forward  to 
the  brink  of  the  abyss.  In  the  lurid  glare  of  the  blazing 
village  the  German  King  stood  by  the  wayside  and  greeted 
his  stalwart  Pomeranians  as  they  passed  him.  High  over 
the  roll  of  the  drums,  the  blare  of  the  bugles,  and  the  crash  of 
the  cannon  rose  the  eager  burst  of  cheering,  as  the  soldiers 
answered  their  sovereign's  greeting,  and  then  followed 
their  leaders  down  into  the  fell  depths  of  the  terrible  chasm. 
The  strain  of  the  crisis  was  sickening  as  we  waited  for  the 
issue,  in  a  sort  of  spasm  of  sombre  silence. 

"The  old  King  sat,  with  his  back  against  a  wall,  on  a 
ladder,  one  end  of  which  rested  on  a  broken  gun-carriage, 
the  other  on  a  dead  horse.  Bismarck,  with  an  elaborate 
assumption  of  coolness  which  his  restlessness  behed,  made 
pretence  to  be  reading  letters.  The  roll  of  the  close  battle 
swelled  and  deepened  till  the  very  ground  trembled  beneath 
us.  The  night  fell  like  a  pall,  but  the  blaze  of  the  adjacent 
conflagration  lit  up  the  anxious  group  here  by  the  church- 
yard wall. 

"The  hoofs  of  a  galloping  horse  rattled  on  the  cause- 
way. A  moment  later  Moltke,  his  face  for  once  quivering 
with  emotion,  sprang  from  the  saddle,  and,  running  towards 
the  King,  cried  out,  Tt  is  good  for  us;  we  have  carried  the 
position,  and  the  victory  is  with  your  Majesty!'  The  King 
started  to  his  feet  with  a  fervent  *God  be  thanked !'  and  then 
burst  into  tears.  Bismarck,  with  a  great  sigh  of  relief, 
crushed  his  letters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand;  and  a  simultane- 
ous hurrah  welcomed  the  good  tidings. " 

For  a  while  the  news  man  drifted  about  but  he  got  in 
touch  with  the  army  again  in  time  for  Sedan.  Quite 
by  chance  on  the  morning  of  September  12  he  heard 
where  fighting  was  going  on  in  the  valley  of  the  Meuse, 
and,  mounted  by  this  time,  he  rode  forward  with  his 
Dutch  comrade,  and  reached  a  point  commanding  a 
view  of  the  scene,  just  in  time  to  see  the  last  of  the 
series  of  cavalry  charges  by  the  French  Chasseurs 
d'Afrique.  Later  in  the  day  Forbes  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  American  General  Sheridan.     Forbes  tells 


78       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

how  Sheridan  noted  the  repulse  of  the  cuirassiers  as 
they  charged  headlong  down  the  slope  of  Illy,  closed 
his  glass,  and  said  quietly,  "It's  all  over  with  the 
French  now,"  and  how  the  members  of  Wilhelm's 
staff  shook  his  hand  for  that  word. 

Next  morning  there  befell  the  adventurous  writer 
of  fortune  the  most  amazing  of  all  his  strokes  of  luck. 
Before  the  clock  struck  six  he  had  a  glimpse  of  Bismarck 
in  a  blue  military  cloak  and  the  undress  of  a  cuirassier 
regiment,  mounted  on  a  powerful  bay  horse  and  riding 
across  country. 

Where  Bismarck  went  there  was  sure  to  be  news, 
so  Forbes  followed.  Soon  appeared  a  shabby  open 
carriage  without  escort  containing  four  French  officers. 
Yet,  one  of  the  four  Forbes  instantly  recognized,  his 
face  *' impassive  and  sphinxlike  as  ever,  but  with  its 
lines  drawn  and  deepened  as  if  by  some  spasm."  It 
was  Louis  Napoleon,  the  Emperor  of  the  French. 
Thus  it  came  about  that  with  Jacob  de  Liefde  Forbes 
was  the  only  civilian  who  saw  the  surrender  of  the 
French  Emperor  and  the  interview  with  Bismarck  at 
the  weaver's  cottage. 

It  was  Napoleon  who  suggested  that  the  stop  be 
made  at  the  cottage.  "I  saw  him  turn  round  in  his 
seat  and  heard  the  request  he  made  to  Bismarck,  that 
he  be  allowed  to  wait  in  the  cottage  until  he  should  have 
an  interview  with  the  King,"  says  Forbes.  Watch 
in  hand  Forbes  made  notes  of  the  incidents  of  that 
interview: 

"Two  chairs  were  brought  out  in  front  of  the  cottage 
by  the  weaver  living  on  the  ground  floor;  the  two  men  sat 
down  facing  the  road  .  .  .  and  the  out-door  conversation 
which  lasted  nearly  an  hour  began.  Bismarck  had  covered 
himself  in  compliance  with  a  gesture  and  a  bow  from  the 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  79 

Emperor.  As  they  sat,  the  latter  occasionally  smiled  faintly 
and  made  a  remark,  but  plainly  Bismarck  was  doing 
most  of  the  talking,  and  that,  too,  energetically.  From 
my  position  I  could  just  hear  the  rough  murmur  of  Bis- 
marck's voice  when  he  occasionally  raised  it;  and  then  he 
would  strengthen  the  emphasis  by  the  gesture  of  bringing 
a  finger  of  the  left  hand  down  on  the  palm  of  the  right.  The 
shabby-bearded  weaver  .  .  .  was  all  the  while  overlooking 
the  pair  from  a  front  window.  After  they  had  parted  I  asked 
the  man  what  he  had  overheard.  ^Nothing,'  said  he. 
*They  spoke  in  German  of  which  I  know  but  few  words.*  ** 

When  Bismarck  rode  away  the  news  gatherer 
watched  Napoleon  III.  saunter  up  and  down  the  cottage 
potato  plot,  limping  slightly  and  smoking  hard.  He 
saw  the  Prussian  cuirassiers  arrive,  and  he  noticed  how 
the  Emperor's  face  flushed  for  the  first  time  when  two 
of  them  took  their  places  with  drawn  swords  behind 
his  chair.  He  saw  Bismarck  return  in  full  uniform 
accompanied  by  Moltke,  to  inform  Napoleon  that 
Wilhelm  accepted  the  proposed  terms  of  capitulation 
but  that  he  could  not  see  the  French  Emperor  until 
they  had  been  accepted  by  the  latter.  And  he  saw  the 
French  monarch  enter  the  carriage  and  drive  slowly 
to  meet  the  conquering  German.  He  saw  their  greeting, 
but  the  interview  within  the  chateau  was  shared  by 
none. 

Yet,  with  all  his  luck  and  his  ability  to  make  "good 
copy,"  this  was  not  the  Forbes  of  Ulundi  or  of  the 
daring  Balkan  rides,  nor  even  the  Forbes  who  scored 
so  regularly  a  few  months  later  before  Paris.  He  had 
not  yet  learned,  or  rather  helped  to  invent,  war  corre- 
spondence in  the  modern  sense  of  the  term.  If  he  had 
had  at  his  command  in  those  early  days  the  resources 
that  later  he  used  he  might  have  scored  such  a  series 
of  "scoops"  as  would  have  made  every  city  in  the 


80       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

world  ring  with  his  name.  But  he  had  no  money  for 
couriers  or  telegraph  tolls.  Letters  were  posted  with 
a  sort  of  vague  notion  that  somehow  they  would  get 
to  London.  He  was  still  a  sort  of  journalistic  tramp, 
promenading  about  with  his  baggage  on  his  back 
much  of  the  time  and  a  tiny  bunch  of  coins  in  his 
pockets. 

After  Sedan  the  German  armies  deployed  into  the 
grand  line  for  the  advance  on  Paris  and  there  came  to 
Forbes  a  letter  which  paralyzed  him,  an  order  to  come 
home.  His  editor  actually  expected  the  Paris  corre- 
spondent of  the  paper  to  report  the  siege.  On  the  third 
day  after  he  had  seen  the  receding  dome  of  the  Luxem- 
bourg Forbes  stood  forlorn  and  disconsolate  in  Fleet 
Street  tossing  coppers.  He  had  been  gone  just  six 
weeks. 

As  already  related  he  was  back  with  the  army  in  a 
very  few  days,  this  time  as  the  correspondent  for  the 
Daily  News,  with  an  abundance  of  money  and  the 
most  unrestricted  orders  to  be  enterprising.  He  pro- 
ceeded to  be  enterprising;  he  did  new  things  constantly. 
For  weeks  he  lived  on  f oreposts  within  easy  range  of  the 
French  cannon  at  Metz.  He  was  "at  home"  with  a 
regiment  of  Prussian  infantry,  sleeping  on  straw  in  a 
corner  of  a  chateau  drawing  room.  Like  the  war  horse 
he  sniffed  battles  from  afar.  He  was  the  only  spectator 
of  the  fight  of  Mezieres-les-Metz,  but  still  he  could 
send  only  a  half -column  over  the  wire  to  London.  He 
got  a  flesh  wound  in  the  leg  and  suffered  from  fever. 
Entering  Metz  even  before  the  capitulation,  he  joined 
in  an  informal  fashion  the  sanitary  volunteers.  Gan- 
grene attacked  his  leg  and  had  to  be  burnt  out  with 
acids,  but  he  carried  a  vinegar  sponge  in  his  mouth  and 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  81 

managed  to  keep  going.  Finally  he  had  to  go  to 
England  lest  amputation  become  necessary. 

Now  he  let  slip  a  great  opportunity.  He  saw  the 
surrender  of  Metz  and  watched  Bazaine  drive  away 
from  the  railway  station.  All  night  he  wrote  in  his 
room  but  he  did  not  hurry  over  the  forty-five  miles  to 
Saarbriick.  It  was  then  that  the  German-American, 
Muller,  carried  to  London  the  despatch,  long  ascribed 
to  Forbes,  which  indicated  to  Forbes  and  the  others 
what  they  might  have  been  doing  all  the  time,  and 
from  then  on  the  pace  and  the  competition  quickened. 

During  his  brief  stay  in  London,  his  chief,  Robin- 
son, said  to  Forbes:  "As  a  fellow-man  I  say  you  ought 
to  lay  up  for  six  months;  as  a  newspaper  manager  I 
wish  you  would  start  for  the  siege  of  Paris  tonight." 
He  started  and  his  leg  got  well.  Adventures  in  great 
variety  befell  him  during  the  months  of  the  siege.  He 
began  to  display  his  remarkable  ability  as  an  organizer. 
The  Germans  were  bewildered  by  the  unaccountable 
speed  with  which  his  letters  appeared  in  London. 

So  short  was  the  interval  between  the  time  of 
events  described  and  the  time  of  the  Daily  News 
reports  that  one  rival,  concluding  Forbes  had  tele- 
graphic facilities  denied  to  the  others,  made  formal 
complaint.  The  Chief  of  Staff  of  the  Crown  Prince 
of  Saxony  informed  Forbes  of  his  rival's  dissatisfaction 
and  under  promise  of  secrecy  Forbes  disclosed  his 
method  to  the  staff  officer.  Soon  after  at  a  dinner 
an  officer  accused  the  correspondent  of  post-dating 
his  letters  and  thus  faking  their  freshness.  Forbes 
made  his  usual  laughing  reply  that  he  carried  his 
own  private  wire  about  with  him,  and  placed  a 
bet  then  and  there  that  if  a  piece  of  information  was 
communicated  to  him  it  would  appear  in  the  Daily 


82       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

News  the  second  morning  after.  The  officer  told  him 
of  a  movement  of  the  troops  and  at  once  left  the  room. 
When  Forbes  visited  the  military  telegraphic  head- 
quarters he  found  his  guess  of  the  errand  of  the  officer 
verified;  the  operator  grinned  and  said,  "No,  I  am 
ordered  to  take  no  message  from  you."  Nevertheless 
after  a  few  days  Forbes  handed  the  officer  a  copy  of 
his  paper  of  the  date  stipulated  in  the  bet  and  con- 
taining the  item  upon  which  the  bet  was  based,  where- 
upon the  officer  stared  and  paid  over  the  stake. 

The  mystery  was  explained  by  Forbes  himself  in 
these  terms: 

"My  secret  was  so  simple  that  I  am  ashamed  to  explain 
it,  yet  with  one  exception  I  had  it  to  myself  for  months. 
When  before  Metz  I  had  done  my  telegraphing  from  Saar- 
briick,  depositing  a  sum  in  the  hands  of  the  telegraph  master 
and  forwarding  messages  to  him  from  the  front  against  the 
deposit.  Before  leaving  the  frontier  region  I  learned  that  a 
train  started  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  from  the 
rear  of  the  German  cordon  on  the  east  side  of  Paris  and 
reached  Saarbriick  in  about  fifteen  hours.  The  telegraph- 
master  would  receive  a  letter  by  this  train  soon  enough  to 
wire  its  contents  to  England  in  time  for  publication  in  the 
London  paper  of  the  morning  following.  I  put  a  consider- 
able sum  into  his  hands  to  meet  the  charge  of  messages  reach- 
ing him,  and  arranged  with  a  local  banker  to  keep  my  credit 
balance  with  the  telegraph-master  always  up  to  a  certain 
figure.  Every  evening  a  field-post  wagon  started  from  the 
Crown  Prince  of  Saxony's  headquarters  on  the  north  side 
of  Paris,  picked  up  mails  at  the  military  post-offices  along 
its  route,  and  reached  the  railroad  terminus  at  Lagny  in 
time  to  connect  with  the  early  morning  post- train  for  the 
frontier.  At  whatever  point  of  my  section  of  the  environ- 
ment of  Paris  I  might  find  myself,  a  military  post-office 
served  by  this  post-wagon  was  within  reasonable  distance, 
and  my  letter,  addressed  to  the  Saarbriick  telegraph-master 
went  jogging  toward  the  frontier  once  every  twenty-four 
hours,  with  a  fair  certainty  of  its  contents  being  in  England 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  83 

within  twenty-four  hours  or  thereabouts  of  the  time  of  its 
being  posted. " 

Almost  thirty  years  after  the  war  Forbes  wrote 
his  rival  and  friend  "Billy"  Russell  of  the  prearrange- 
ments  by  which  a  noted  "scoop"  was  "pulled  off." 
He  sent  on  in  advance  complete  details  of  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  St.  Denis  bombardment.  On  the 
morning  that  it  began  the  Crown  Prince  stood  on  the 
steps  of  his  chateau,  and  Forbes  in  the  door  of  the 
house  in  the  grounds  used  as  a  telegraph  office.  As 
the  first  gun  was  heard  the  Prince  raised  his  hand. 
Forbes  instantly  shouted  to  the  operator  inside,  "Go 
ahead!"  Those  two  words  alone  were  wired,  but  full 
details  of  the  positions  of  the  batteries  and  the  com- 
plements of  artillery  appeared  in  the  noon  edition  of 
the  Daily  News  that  same  day.  The  matter,  of  course, 
was  already  in  type,  but  carefully  locked  away  until 
the  word  came. 

Now  for  the  story  of  two  of  Forbes's  great  feats. 
Through  the  winter  of  the  siege  of  Paris  he  remained 
at  the  headquarters  of  the  Crown  Prince  of  Saxony 
in  a  small  village  due  north  of  the  beleaguered  city. 
There  was  kingly  pomp  at  Versailles.  The  village 
picture  was  drab  in  contrast  but  it  had  the  atmosphere 
of  war.  Forbes  rode  about  the  lines  of  investment  and 
saw  the  depopulation  of  the  environs  of  the  city. 
During  the  great  sortie  he  watched  with  alert  eyes.  He 
saw  the  thirty  civilians  who  had  come  to  offer  King 
Wilhelm  the  German  crown.  Christmas  passed,  the 
bombardment  piled  the  walls  of  St.  Denis  in  ruins,  and 
at  last  on  the  evening  of  January  28,  while  the  head- 
quarters staff  were  assembled  in  the  drawing-room  of 
the  chateau  of  the  Crown  Prince,  an  orderly  brought 
in  a  telegram  from  the  Emperor.    It  announced  that 


84        FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

two  hours  before  Count  Bismarck  and  M.  Jules  Favre 
had  set  their  hands  to  a  convention  in  terms  of  which 
an  armistice  to  last  twenty-one  hours  already  had  come 
into  effect. 

The  correspondents  nerved  themselves  to  a  desper- 
ate venture.  The  capitulation  was  imminent.  The 
reporters  watched  each  other  suspiciously.  How  to 
get  into  Paris;  how  to  be  the  very  first  to  enter  the 
city;  how  to  get  out  of  the  city  with  the  news,  and  how 
to  get  the  news  to  their  papers  —  these  were  their 
problems.  The  world  was  on  tiptoe  for  tidings  from 
the  inside  of  the  plight  of  Paris.  The  balloon  post 
and  the  carrier  pigeons  had  come  far  short  of  telling  the 
world  the  details  of  the  awful  experiences  of  the 
besieged  city. 

Henry  Labouchere  told  how  Forbes  startled  them, 
"quite  as  much  as  Friday  did  Robinson  Crusoe," 
when  he  suddenly  appeared  from  without  the  walls. 
They  welcomed  him  with  enthusiasm,  "for  he  had 
English  napoleons  in  one  pocket  and  some  slices  of 
ham  in  another." 

His  German  friends  shook  their  heads  and  took 
pathetic  leave  of  him  when  he  announced  his  intention 
to  try  for  Paris.  There  were  fifty  correspondents 
waiting  on  the  Versailles  side  to  enter  the  city.  Forbes 
planned  to  get  in  by  the  north  through  St.  Denis.  He 
was  dressed  so  as  to  be  readily  mistaken  for  one  of  the 
hated  Germans  as  he  cantered  along  a  road  crowded 
with  Frenchmen.  He  came  to  the  Porte  de  la  Chapelle 
and  found  a  closed  gate  and  the  drawbridge  up.  No- 
body knew  when  the  gate  would  open;  he  waited  a 
half-hour  in  a  big  crowd,  and  moved  on  to  the  next 
gate  where  he  found  gendarmes  examining  passes. 
Said    Forbes:  "I    rode    on    slowly,    looking    straight 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  85 

between  my  horse's  ears,  and  somehow  nobody  stopped 
me."  Just  inside  he  had  a  narrow  escape.  A  train 
on  the  Cincture  Railway  came  puffing  along,  just  as 
an  officer  started  forward  to  halt  him.  He  encouraged 
his  horse  to  indulge  in  capers.  The  officer  clearly 
liked  a  good  horse,  and  ere  he  forgot  his  admiration 
of  the  animal  and  remembered  his  duty  of  intercep- 
tion, Forbes  was  over  the  bridge.  He  was  inside,  and 
inside  he  remained  for  eighteen  hours. 

His  hurried  investigation  of  the  misery  and  the 
heroism  of  Paris  gave  the  world  one  of  the  most 
thrilling  stories  a  daily  newspaper  ever  printed.  In 
his  long  despatch  he  said: 

"There  needed  no  acuteness  to  discern  to  what  a  plight 
of  hungry  misery  she  had  been  reduced  before  she  had 
brought  herself  to  endure  the  humiliation  of  surrender. 
That  night  she  was  alone  with  her  grief  and  her  hunger;  not 
until  the  morrow  came  the  relief  and  consolation  which  the 
sympathy  of  Britain  so  promptly  forwarded  to  the  capital 
of  the  ally  with  whom  she  had  endured  the  hardships  and 
earned  the  successes  of  the  Crimean  War.  Wan,  starved 
citizens  crept  by  on  the  unlit  boulevards,  before  and  since 
the  parade  of  luxury  and  sleek  affluence.  No  cafes  invited 
the  promenader  with  brilliant  splendour  of  illumination  and 
garish  lavishness  of  decoration,  for  there  were  no  promenaders 
to  entice,  no  fuel  to  furnish  gas,  no  dainty  viands  wherewith 
to  trick  out  the  plateglass  windows. 

"The  gaiety,  the  profusion,  and  the  sinfulness  of  the 
Paris  which  one  had  known  in  the  Second  Empire  Days  had 
given  place  to  quiet,  uncomplaining  dejection,  to  utter 
depletion,  to  a  decorum  at  once  beautiful,  startling  and  sad. 
The  hotels  were  all  hospitals.  The  Red  Cross  flag  floated 
from  almost  every  house  .  .  .  bandaged  cripples  limped 
along  the  streets,  and  the  only  traffic  was  furnished  by  the 
interminable  procession  of  funerals. 

"I  had  brought  in,  stowed  in  a  wallet  on  my  back, 
some  five  pounds  of  ham.    The  servants  of  the  place  where 


86       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

I  stayed  put  the  meat  on  a  dish  with  a  cover  over  it,  and 
showed  it  up  and  down  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  St.  Honore 
as  a  curiosity,  charging  a  sou  for  Hfting  the  cover. " 

His  story  in  hand  Forbes  faced  his  next  problem  — 
to  get  out  of  the  city  and  reach  the  end  of  a  wire. 
People  told  him  he  must  have  his  passport  vised  at  the 
Embassy,  then  get  a  permit  from  the  Prefecture  of 
Police,  and  finally  undertake  the  passing  of  all  the 
Prussian  lines.  He  got  the  vised  passport,  and  left 
the  rest  to  luck.  At  the  Vincennes  Gate  he  looked 
innocently  about  him  and  began  to  whistle  as  he 
met  a  cordon  of  soldiers,  and  the  instant  he  was  out- 
side he  broke  into  a  full  trot  through  the  suburbs. 
Ever  lucky,  he  met  at  the  f orepost  line  an  oflficer  whom 
he  knew,  and  he  was  passed  through  in  spite  of  the 
orders  to  turn  back  all  who  came  from  Paris.  The  way 
was  clear.  Now  for  the  ride  of  twenty  miles  to  catch 
the  train  at  Lagny  for  the  frontier. 

The  ride  almost  cost  the  life  of  his  horse.  He 
found  the  roads  in  bad  order,  long  neglected  as  they 
had  been,  and  much  scored  by  the  trenches  of  both 
armies.  One  shoe  after  another  was  torn  from  the 
hoofs  of  the  laboring  animal.  He  was  dead  beat  when 
Forbes  galloped  to  the  station  barely  in  time  to  con- 
sign him  to  the  care  of  a  German  cavalryman  and 
swing  aboard  the  train.  He  was  trusting  no  post 
service  for  this  cowp. 

The  following  morning  about  two  he  was  across 
France  and  in  Carlsruhe  where  he  knew  there  was  an 
all-night  telegraph  office.  For  eight  hours  he  re- 
mained there,  supervising  the  work  of  the  girls  who 
had  the  night  shift.  The  instant  the  message  was  gone 
he  went  aboard  the  train  again,  and  forty  hours  after 
he  had  left  Paris  he  was  back  in  the  city. 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  87 

Two  correspondents  who  had  just  managed  to 
wriggle  into  the  capital  from  Versailles  chaffed  him 
considerably,  but  a  few  days  later  when  he  saw  them 
absorbed  in  a  copy  of  the  Daily  News  they  had  nothing 
to  say. 

He  scored  again,  although  beaten  a  few  hours  by 
Russell,  when  the  German  troops  made  their  formal 
entry  into  the  city  on  March  1,  1871.  The  Times 
special  saw  the  Longchamp  review  and  then  left  by 
chartered  train  for  Calais.  But  Forbes  was  not 
beaten  very  badly.  His  story  was  in  the  second  edition 
of  the  Daily  News,  selling  on  the  streets  at  eight  that 
morning.  For  years  people  insisted  that  Forbes  stole 
a  ride,  disguised  as  a  fireman,  on  The  Times  special 
train.  Far  more  severe  was  the  strain  to  which  he  was 
subjected,  for  the  Daily  News  had  no  influence  with 
the  Directorate  for  a  special.  Forbes  did  without 
such  facilities. 

He  witnessed  the  review  at  Longchamp  and  in  the 
Champ  Elysees  he  was  addressed  by  the  Crown  Prince 
of  Saxony  at  the  head  of  his  staff.  The  incident  was 
noticed  and  a  party  of  Frenchmen  attacked  him  the 
instant  he  left  the  protection  of  the  German  troops. 
The  police  rescued  him  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 
But  half  of  his  greatcoat  was  torn  from  him  and 
along  with  it  had  gone  his  notebook.  That  meant 
the  loss  of  two  columns  of  copy.  In  a  twinkling  the 
tragedy  became  comedy.  Luck  once  more.  Into 
the  police  station  rushed  a  citizen  with  the  missing  note- 
book, calling  loudly  that  here  was  the  evidence  that 
the  reporter  was  a  spy.  Says  Forbes:  "His  face  was 
a  study  when  in  my  gladness  I  offered  him  a  reward. " 

A  magistrate  examined  his  credentials  and  liberated 
him.     While  in  the  home  of  the  magistrate's  sister 


88       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

washing  away  the  stains  of  the  mob's  roughness,  the 
throngs  raged  outside.  The  sister  led  him  to  a  quiet 
side  alley.  Forbes  repaid  her  on  the  spot  for  her 
goodness.  Her  brother  was  entitled  to  a  good  salary, 
but  for  six  months  not  a  franc  has  been  paid  and  they 
were  almost  starving.  Forbes  was  an  accredited  sub- 
almoner,  and  was  able  in  a  few  minutes  to  have  a 
hamper  of  food  placed  at  the  disposal  of  these  friends 
in  need. 

It  was  now  high  time  to  be  off  for  England.  He  had 
waiting  a  dog-cart  with  a  stout  horse.  The  ride  through 
the  city  was  not  very  safe  but  he  reached  the  St.  Denis 
gate,  and  once  outside  he  lashed  the  animal  and 
covered  the  twelve  miles  to  Margency  at  good  speed. 
Thence  he  was  permitted  for  once  to  wire  a  fairly  long 
message  to  London. 

But  this  was  not  enough;  he  was  going  on  himself, 
so  he  hurried  back  to  St.  Denis  and  caught  the  regular 
Calais  train.  Every  moment  of  the  journey  he 
wrote  at  feverish  speed.  In  the  early  morning  he  was 
in  the  English  capital.  When  the  Daily  News  special 
edition  was  out,  and  the  boys  were  crying  it  on  the 
streets,  the  weary  correspondent  went  into  the  room 
of  the  editor-in-chief  to  sleep. 

Some  hours  later  he  woke  to  find  the  manager  and 
his  staff  standing  over  him  and  considerably  concerned 
as  to  his  condition.  He  was  stretched  on  the  floor  with 
the  bulky  London  Directory  under  his  head  for  a  pil- 
low. His  clothing  still  bore  the  marks  of  his  scuffle 
with  the  Paris  mob.  Nevertheless  he  started  back  that 
same  evening. 

The  final  exploit  of  that  period  was  achieved  at 
the  close  of  the  Commune.  France  had  been  at  war 
with  her  own  capital,  and  the  second  siege  of  the  city 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  89 

was  twofold  more  terrible  than  the  first.  Forbes  was 
hard  at  work  in  London  on  his  first  book.  His  con- 
tract with  his  publishers  and  his  desire  to  see  his  story 
in  permanent  form  enabled  him  for  two  months  to 
hold  out  against  the  importunities  of  the  manager  of 
the  Daily  News,  At  last  on  the  afternoon  of  May 
19,  1871,  by  writing  and  revising  ten  and  twelve  hours 
a  day,  Forbes  finished  his  book,  and  that  same  eve- 
ning he  was  a  passenger  in  the  Continental  Mail  for 
Paris. 

When  he  undertook  to  enter  the  devoted  city  he  was 
twice  turned  back.  Foreigners  were  supposed  to  be 
directing  the  Commune's  defense,  so  no  more  foreigners 
should  enter  Paris.  The  gendarmes  and  the  commissaries 
of  police  made  no  difference  in  the  case  of  a  newspaper 
man.  Forbes  spent  a  night  in  a  hay-loft  near  St. 
Denis,  and  on  the  morning  of  May  21  he  took  the 
wagon  road  and  walked  into  Paris  without  hindrance. 
What  was  probably  the  last  permit  issued  to  a  corre- 
spondent to  go  everywhere  and  see  everything  was 
given  to  him.  Now  he  did  his  work  under  far  worse 
conditions  than  those  of  battle.  The  Commune  was 
almost  crushed  by  the  army  under  MacMahon.  All 
was  imcertainty  and  turmoil.  Bullets  came  from 
rear,  front  and  flanks.  Time-fuse  shells  were  bursting 
in  white  puffs  all  over  the  city.  Intricate  barricades 
blocked  the  streets.  The  permit  after  all  was  of 
slight  use. 

The  horse  which  he  had  left  comfortably  stabled 
when  the  armistice  began  had  been  requisitioned  by 
the  Parisians.  From  the  stable  Forbes  went  to  the 
War  Ministry  of  the  Commune,  where  he  found  the 
famous  Dombrowski,  the  last  of  the  many  general- 
issimos, who  had  been  in  command  for  about  a  day  and 


90        FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

a  haK.  Shells  were  dropping  in  the  street  and  striking 
the  house  itself.  The  press  man  mounted  to  the 
observatory  on  the  roof  and  at  once  came  under  fire. 
Messengers  were  hurrying  to  the  commander  asking 
for  help  for  various  points  in  the  city,  and  Dombrow- 
ski  left  the  chateau  on  a  charger  with  Forbes  tramping 
at  his  heels.  As  he  watched  the  rushes  and  stampedes 
of  the  almost  hand-to-hand  fighting  the  adventurous 
Englishman  lost  sight  of  the  generalissimo,  and  soon 
after  heard  that  Dombrowski  had  been  killed. 

Almost  wandering  about  the  city  Forbes  realized 
that  the  supreme  hour  had  come  at  last.  Clearly  the 
Commune  was  dying,  but  dying  hard,  "with  dripping 
fangs  and  every  blood-claw  protruded."  At  mid- 
night the  correspondent  heard  shouts:  "We  are  sur- 
rounded. The  Versaillists  are  pouring  into  the  city. " 
A  panic  began.  Arms  were  thrown  aside,  soldiers 
and  many  officers  ran  at  top  speed.  Sometimes  men 
fired  away  indiscriminately  and  clubbed  their  guns 
at  one  another.  At  one  time  that  night,  in  the  general 
distraction  and  through  his  ignorance  of  that  part 
of  Paris,  Forbes  had  no  notion  of  where  he  was  or 
whither  the  stream  of  fugitives  was  bearing  him. 
The  first  flicker  of  the  dawn  found  him  on  the  Place 
du  Roi  de  Rome,  alone  in  a  dense  fog.  He  went  to  the 
Champs  Elysees  and  ran  the  gauntlet  of  the  field  bat- 
tery which  was  sweeping  the  street. 

By  devious  paths  Forbes  made  his  way  to  the 
Palais  Royal.  Here  barricades  were  being  constructed 
of  mattresses,  furniture,  cabs  and  omnibuses.  A  soldier 
ordered  Forbes  to  go  to  work  or  to  stand  up  and  be 
shot.  He  rectified  the  omission  of  an  embrasure  in  the 
barricade,  his  work  was  approved,  and  he  was  allowed 
to  depart.    At  the  Boulevard  Haussmann  he  found 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  91 

crowds  of  Communists  on  each  side  of  the  street  and 
the  Versaillists  in  position  a  thousand  yards  away 
raining  rifle  bullets  down  the  open  space  between  the 
crowds.  The  Englishman  ran  across.  A  bullet  passed 
through  his  coat-tail  and  perforated  a  tobacco  pouch 
in  the  pocket.  He  purchased  breakfast  and  wrote 
for  two  hours.  Then  as  he  headed  for  the  Gare  du 
Nord  a  bullet  pierced  his  hat  and  a  shell  splinter 
whizzed  by  closely  enough  to  blow  aside  his  beard. 
The  railway  employee  whom  he  hired  to  walk  through 
the  railway  tunnel  with  a  letter  to  deliver  to  a  friend 
in  St.  Denis  for  forwarding,  departed  whistling  cheer- 
fully, but  Forbes  never  saw  or  heard  of  him  again. 

Returning,  Forbes  watched  from  safe  doorways  the 
stretchers  being  carried  to  the  hospitals  at  the  rate 
of  one  a  minute.  Frederic  Villiers  tells  how,  many 
years  after  the  French  Republic  was  established,  he 
was  seated  in  a  cafe  in  Paris  when  an  Englishman 
whom  he  chanced  to  meet  told  him  how  Forbes  had 
saved  his  life  during  these  perilous  hours  of  the  end  of 
the  Commune.  At  this  time  occurred  the  adventure 
which  a  recent  writer  upon  the  history  of  the  news- 
paper declares  "must  stand  on  the  summit  of  all  the 
hairbreadth  dangers  of  a  correspondent."  Forbes 
himself  described  the  situation  thus: 

"  When  I  reached  the  Place,  in  the  center  of  which  stands 
the  Church  of  Notre  Dame  de  Lorette,  I  found  myself 
inside  an  extraordinary  triangle  of  barricades.  There  was 
a  barricade  across  the  end  of  the  Rue  St.  Lazare,  another 
across  the  end  of  the  Rue  Lorette,  and  a  third  between  the 
Church  and  in  front  of  the  Place  looking  into  the  Rue  Chat- 
eaudun.  The  peculiarity  of  the  arrangement  consisted  in 
this,  that  each  of  these  barricades  could  be  either  enfiladed 
or  taken  in  reverse  by  fire  directed  against  the  others,  so 
that  the  defenders  were  exposing  themselves  to  fire  from 
flank  and  rear,  as  well  as  from  front. " 


92       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Up  came  the  officer  in  command,  and  ordered 
Forbes  to  pick  up  the  musket  of  a  man  who  had  just 
been  killed,  and  aid  in  the  defense  of  the  barricades. 
The  correspondent  refused,  affirming  himself  a  foreigner 
and  a  neutral.  The  officer  instantly  ordered  that  he 
make  his  option  between  obedience  and  execution. 
The  press  man  laughed,  having  no  idea  that  the  soldier 
was  serious.  But  the  officer  merely  called  to  four  of 
his  command,  Forbes  was  stood  up  against  the  church 
wall,  and  the  four  paced  off  the  distance  and  con- 
stituted themselves  a  firing  party.  Just  in  the  nick 
of  time  a  rush  of  the  Versaillists  over  the  Rue  St. 
Lazare  barricade  took  place.  The  defenders  pre- 
cipitately evacuated  the  triangle,  and  the  firing  party 
went  with  them. 

But  the  regulars  in  a  twinkling  seized  Forbes, 
who  had  been  glad  indeed  to  get  away  from  the  Com- 
munards. The  weapon  was  in  his  hands.  Clearly 
he  was  one  of  the  defenders  of  the  barricade.  The 
bewildered  correspondent  was  again  stuck  up  against 
the  church  wall.  He  had  escaped  shooting  at  the 
hands  of  the  Communards  apparently  only  to  be  shot 
by  the  Versaillists.  He  protested  with  all  his  might. 
The  "people  in  the  red  breeches"  were  about  to  end 
his  career  when  he  saw  a  superior  officer  and  appealed 
to  him.  The  officer  inspected  his  thumbs  and  fore- 
fingers. They  were  clean.  The  chassepot  then  in 
use  always  threw  a  spit  of  black  powder  on  the  hand 
from  the  breech  for  every  shot  fired.  These  stains 
were  the  brand  of  the  Communard.  Forbes  was 
free.  But  had  he  fired  one  shot  to  save  his  life  on  the 
first  occasion  he  would  have  lost  his  life  on  the  second ! 

Not  a  scrap  of  news  had  Forbes  or  any  of  his  com- 
petitors been  able  to  get  out  of  Paris.     They  were 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  93 

on  duty  at  the  death  of  the  Commune,  but  their 
professional  purposes  were  imattained.  They  were 
sick  with  anxiety.  Several  tried  to  leave  the  city. 
One  was  denounced  as  a  spy  and  narrowly  missed 
being  shot.  Forbes  saw  the  Tuileries  burning.  The 
Louvre  was  in  danger.  Then  he  devised  a  scheme 
which  worked.  Lord  Lyons  had  gone  to  Versailles. 
To  the  Second  Secretary,  England's  representative 
in  Paris,  went  Forbes  asking  for  something  to  carry 
to  Versailles.  Warned  that  two  messengers  had  been 
fired  upon  and  turned  back,  he  insisted,  and  was 
furnished  with  a  big  official  envelope  addressed  to 
"Her  Majesty,  the  Queen  of  England." 

As  he  went  on  his  way  his  half-starved  horse  fell 
and  the  correspondent's  ankle  was  dislocated.  Soldiers 
dragged  him  into  a  cabaret.  He  paid  for  wine,  and 
was  lifted  to  the  saddle  and  allowed  to  proceed.  But 
at  the  gate  he  was  stopped  by  a  colonel  who  would 
recognize  nothing  but  a  permit  from  Marshal  Mac- 
Mahon.  The  colonel  was  sent  away  presently  and 
Forbes  addressed  himself  to  a  major  who  wore  the 
Crimean  medal.  The  wily  press  man  dwelt  upon  the 
comradeship  of  the  English  and  French  troops  in  the 
trenches  before  Sebastopol.  The  old  soldier  looked 
about  cautiously.  He  listened  to  the  plea  of  the 
courier  of  the  Queen  whose  decoration  he  wore.  With- 
out speaking  a  word  he  pointed  over  his  shoulder 
and  Forbes  was  off  through  the  gate  and  soon  in  a 
carriage  for  Versailles.     Diplomatic  Forbes! 

The  despatches  were  duly  handed  to  the  First 
Secretary  and  Forbes  bolted  a  morsel  of  food.  Then 
he  was  away,  on  wheels,  of  course,  by  a  circuitous 
route  to  St.  Denis  and  the  railway.  All  the  way  to 
London  he  worked  hard  in  train  and  boat.     On  the 


94       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

early  morning  of  Thursday,  May  25,  he  arrived  with  his 
big  budget  of  thrilHng  news.  Next  day  he  was  back 
in  Paris,  but  all  virtually  was  over.  After  one  week  of 
fighting  MacMahon  was  master  of  the  city. 

The  next  great  war  to  which  Archibald  Forbes  went 
for  his  paper  was  the  Russo-Turkish  conflict  of  1877, 
although  in  the  meantime  he  was  not  idle.  In  1874 
he  spent  eight  months  in  the  Tirhoot  district  in  Bengal 
in  the  famine  times  and  came  home  invalided  by 
sunstroke.  Then  he  followed  Prince  Alfonso  from 
Madrid  to  Navarre  in  pursuit  of  the  Carlists,  making 
in  all  three  campaigns  in  the  Peninsula.  Once  more 
India  called  him;  he  went  there  with  the  Prince  of 
Wales  in  1875.     Next  the  Balkans. 

But  the  first  season  in  southeastern  Europe  was 
given,  not  to  the  tremendous  struggle  of  1877  and 
1878,  but  to  the  Servian  campaign  of  1876.  The 
world  was  not  greatly  interested  in  that  little  war,  but, 
comparatively  unimportant  as  the  fighting  was,  it 
gave  Forbes  the  opportunity  to  achieve  one  of  his  most 
remarkable  feats  of  enterprise  and  endurance. 

Servia  was  making  war  against  her  Turkish  suze- 
rain. For  three  months  at  Deligrad,  one  hundred  and 
forty  miles  from  Belgrade,  General  Tchernaieff,  with 
his  Russian  volunteers  and  rough  Servian  levies, 
faced  the  Turkish  army  of  Abdul  Kerim  Pasha.  The 
life  of  the  correspondent  with  the  Servians  was  almost 
comically  squalid.  The  headquarters  was  a  ruined 
school-house.  The  staff  lived  in  holes  dug  out  of 
the  ground  and  thatched  over  with  reeds.  The  news 
men  lay  on  the  ground  about  a  great  fire  which 
occasionally  burned  the  roof  over  their  heads.  Fred- 
eric Villiers,  the  artist-correspondent,  also  was  at  the 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  95 

front,  and  he  has  left  an  amusing  portrait  of  the 
Forbes  whom  he  then  met  for  the  first  time.  "Begin- 
ning to  sketch  a  motley  group  of  men  in  Turkish 
trousers,  zouave  jackets  profusely  braided,  with  yat- 
aghans and  knives  stuck  in  the  capacious  pockets 
of  their  belts,  I  saw  a  figure  towering  above  the  crowd 
of  men  and  women  on  the  sidewalk,"  says  Villiers. 
"The  individual  wore  a  Tam  O'Shanter  cap,  had  a 
briar-root  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  sauntered  firmly 
through  the  crowd  of  peasantry,  always  steadily  keep- 
ing his  course.  The  people  seemed  instinctively  to 
make  way  for  him,  and  though  his  stature  and  suit  of 
quiet  Scotch  tweed  made  him  a  conspicuous  figure 
standing  boldly  out  from  the  gaudy  and  buccaneer- 
like persons  around,  he  was  not  looked  upon  by  the 
peasantry  with  any  surprise.  They  all  appeared  to 
have  been  famijiar  with  him  for  years.  To  me  he 
was  the  oddest,  out-of-the-way  looking  individual 
in  that  market-place.  *Why,  he  must  be  Forbes,' 
I  said  to  myself."  And  Villiers  presented  his  letter 
of  introduction,  and  forthwith  their  friendship  began. 
The  final  conflict  of  the  war  lasted  several  hours. 
The  Servians  behaved  none  too  well  and  were  badly 
beaten.  At  the  close  Forbes  rode  through  the  belt  of 
Turkish  skirmishers  to  escape  being  cut  off.  Servia 
was  at  the  mercy  of  the  Turks.  Let  the  correspondent 
relate  the  story  of  his  coup  in  his  own  graphic  style: 

"At  five  in  the  afternoon,  when  I  rode  away  from  the 
blazing  huts  of  Deligrad,  more  than  140  miles  lay  between 
me  and  my  point,  the  telegraph  office  at  Semlin,  the  Hunga- 
rian town  on  the  other  side  of  the  Save  from  Belgrade.  I 
had  an  order  for  post-horses  along  the  road,  and  galloped 
hard  for  Paratchin,  the  nearest  post-station.  When  I 
got  there  the  postmaster  had  horses,  but  no  vehicle.  .  .  . 
The  Servian  post-nags  were  not  saddle-horses,  but  sharp 


96       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

spurs  and  the  handling  of  an  old  dragoon  might  be  relied  on 
to  make  them  travel  somehow.  All  night  long  I  rode  that 
weary  journey,  changing  horses  every  fifteen  miles,  and 
forcing  the  vile  brutes  along  at  the  best  of  their  speed. 
Soon  after  noon  of  the  following  day,  sore  from  head  to  foot, 
I  was  clattering  over  the  stone  of  the  Belgrade  main  street. 
The  field  telegraph  wires  had  conveyed  but  a  curt,  frag- 
mentary intimation  of  disaster;  and  all  Belgrade,  feverish 
for  further  news,  rushed  out  into  the  street  as  I  powdered 
along. 

"  But  I  had  ridden  hard  all  night  not  to  gossip  in  Belgrade 
but  to  get  to  the  Semlin  telegraph  wire,  and  I  never  drew 
rein  until  I  reached  the  ferry.  At  Semlin,  one  long  drink 
of  beer,  and  then  to  the  task  of  writing  hour  after  hour 
against  time  the  tidings  which  I  carried  down  country. 
After  I  had  written  my  story  and  put  it  on  the  wires,  I  lay 
down  in  my  clothes  and  slept  twenty  hours  without  so  much 
as  turning.  .  ,  I  had  seen  a  battle  that  lasted  six  hours, 
ridden  140  miles,  and  written  to  the  Daily  News  a  tele- 
graphic message  four  columns  long  —  all  in  the  space  of 
thirty  hours.  '* 

When  the  conflict  between  Russia  and  Turkey 
summoned  Forbes  war  correspondence  was  coming 
to  its  golden  prime.  Editors,  publishers  and  news 
gatherers  were  straining  every  nerve  and  inventing  all 
manner  of  devices  to  get  the  news  and  to  be  first  at  the 
telegraph  key.  Both  in  the  Old  World  and  the  New 
the  great  dailies  resolved  to  put  forth  their  utmost 
powers  of  organization  for  the  speedy  transmission  of 
tidings.  And  the  men  at  the  front  were  accorded 
facilities  which  rarely  have  been  granted  since.  There 
was  to  be  no  field  censorship;  correspondents  were 
put  on  honor  "not  to  reveal  impending  movements, 
concentrations  and  intentions."  Otherwise  they  were 
permitted  to  write  and  send  what  they  x;hose,  but 
each  had  to  send  a  file  of  his  paper  to  headquarters. 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  97 

"and  a  polyglot  officer  was  appointed  to  read  all 
those  newspapers  and  to  be  down  upon  the  reporters 
if  they  transgressed  what  he  considered  fair  comment. " 
They  then  were  warned,  and  in  case  of  grave  offense 
they  were  expelled.  Each  correspondent  was  numbered, 
and  in  addition  at  the  outset  they  carried  big  brass 
badges  on  their  arms.  But  the  French  notion  of  the 
fitness  of  things  could  not  stand  this  method  of 
designation,  "so  at  the  instance  of  the  correspondents 
of  that  nationality  there  was  instituted  a  more  dainty 
style  of  brassard,  with  the  double-headed  eagle  in  silver 
lace  on  a  yellow  silk  background."  Each  man's 
permit  was  written  on  the^back  of  his  photograph  and 
the  great  seal  of  the  headquarters  was  stamped  upon 
the  breast  of  the  picture.  At  headquarters  was  kept 
a  correspondents'  album  in  which  were  placed  dupli- 
cate photographs  of  the  entire  force  of  specials. 
Says  Forbes:  "When  I  last  saw  this  book  there  were 
some  eighty-two  portraits  in  it;  and  I  am  bound  to 
admit  that  it  was  not  an  overwhelming  testimony  to 
the  good  looks  of  the  profession.  I  got,  I  remember, 
into  several  messes  through  having  incautiously  shaved 
off  some  hair  from  my  chin  which  was  there  when  the 
photograph  was  taken.  ...  I  had  to  cultivate  a  new 
imperial  with  all  speed." 

Forbes  used  to  say  that  war  correspondence  at  this 
stage  might  be  considered  to  have  reached  the  degree 
of  professional  development  of  a  fine  art.  Some 
attention  may  therefore  be  paid  to  the  methods  of 
organization  which  were  used  by  the  men  who  were 
sent  to  the  front  by  the  Daily  News,  a  journal  whose 
remarkable  success  in  reporting  the  operations  in  the 
Balkans  gave  it  great  prestige ^ throughout  the  English- 
speaking  world.     At  the  outset  there  was  a  reciprocal 


98       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

alliance  between  the  London  paper  and  the  New  York 
Herald,  Forbes  and  MacGahan  were  with  the  Rus- 
sians for  the  Daily  News,  Frank  D.  Millet  and  John 
P.  Jackson  for  the  Herald,  In  September  a  new 
arrangement  enabled  Forbes  to  secure  Millet  also  for 
the  Daily  News,  In  friendly  conclave  they  planned 
their  scheme  of  action.  The  first  consideration  was  to 
make  sure  of  a  base  of  operations  where  they  could 
always  depend  upon  finding  a  wire  and  a  despatcher. 
This  point  clearly  was  the  city  of  Bucharest,  but  no 
correspondent,  however,  could  continuously  go  back 
and  forth  between  the  city  and  the  army.  Forbes 
telegraphed  for  a  young  man  who  had  acted  as  his  base 
manager  in  Servia.  A  correspondents'  headquarters 
was  fitted  up  in  the  city,  copyists  were  hired  to  be 
ready  at  any  time  to  write  out  in  bold  and  readable 
script  all  messages  that  came  over  the  wire  and  all 
despatches  that  were  sent  in  by  the  men  at  the  front. 
So  uncertain  were  these  men  of  the  disposition  which 
the  censor  at  Bucharest  might  manifest  to  their  mes- 
sages that  they  decided  to  try  for  more  than  one  method 
of  communication.  And  their  scheme  was  nothing 
else  than  a  pony  express.  Jackson  suggested  an  ex- 
press across  the  Carpathian  Mountains  to  Kronstadt 
in  Transylvania  where  a  wire  might  be  had  which  would 
carry  any  message  that  the  censor  might  obliterate. 
The  distance  was  eighty  miles.  Eight  horses  were 
secured  for  stages  of  ten  miles  each  and  eight  men  were 
engaged  to  care  for  the  animals.  Only  once  was  this 
express  system  used.  Forbes  reached  Bucharest  on 
August  2  with  the  story  of  the  Russian  reverse  before 
Plevna  on  July  31.  The  manager  in  charge  of  the  bu- 
reau told  him  the  censor  would  surely  hold  up  the 
message.     The  correspondent  turned  to  his  ponies  and 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  99 

from  the  town  in  Hungary  the  facts  of  the  disaster 
were  wired.  In  the  end  the  Russian  authorities 
signified  their  entire  approval  of  that  message.  The 
News  men  thereupon  realized  that  the  censor  would 
not  be  likely  to  interfere  with  them  and  abolished  the 
pony  express.  "It  had  lasted  nine  weeks,"  said 
Forbes,  "and  cost  abominably,  but  the  decision  was 
that  it  had  been  worth  its  keep." 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  these  reporters  at  the 
front  had  much  experience  of  the  soft  side  of  life. 
Once  across  the  Danube,  they  "had  to  abandon  the 
flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  in  the  shape  of  the  civilization, 
beauty  and  good  cooking  of  Bucharest."  Villiers 
and  Forbes  shared  a  small  wagon  which  they  covered 
with  leather  and  fitted  up  as  a  dining  room,  sleeping 
room  and  drawing  room,  and  here  they  entertained 
some  very  distinguished  callers  upon  occasion.  For 
cooking  utensils  they  had  a  stew  pan  and  a  frying  pan. 
Their  joint  attendant  was  an  old  Servian  called  Andreas, 
who  had  "  a  mania  for  the  purchase  of  irrelevant  poultry 
and  for  accommodating  the  fowls  in  the  wagon,  tied 
by  the  legs  against  a  day  of  starvation."  The  wagon 
bed  was  rather  narrow  for  two  able-bodied  men  to  sleep 
in,  but  Forbes  and  Villiers  managed  it,  although 
Forbes  found  some  inconvenience  in  the  artist's 
practice  of  going  to  bed  with  his  spurs  on. 

At  the  outset  the  Daily  News  force  divided  the 
territory,  so  that  the  whole  field  might  be  covered 
without  duplication  or  interference.  Millet  was  for 
some  time  in  the  Dobrudscha  and  after  the  fall  of 
Plevna  he  went  into  the  mountains  with  Gourko.  His 
courier  service  proved  of  such  efficiency  that  the 
Russian  generals  themselves  were  fain  to  send  their 
despatches  by  his  messengers.     MacGahan  most  of 


100     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  time  was  with  Skobeleff.  Forbes  had  the  benefit 
at  times  of  valuable  hints  from  General  Ignatieff.  He 
saw  the  crossing  of  the  river,  the  battle  of  Plevna,  and 
the  fierce  conflict  in  the  Shipka  Pass,  but  after  the 
September  attack  upon  Plevna  he  was  struck  down  by 
fever.  Villiers  was  his  constant  companion  through 
these  months. 

During  the  opening  weeks  of  the  campaign,  while 
MacGahan  was  away  with  Gourko  and  Millet  was 
with  Zimmermann,  it  fell  to  Forbes  to  cover  the 
Russian  advance  from  flank  to  flank.  He  was  in  the 
saddle  at  this  time  morning,  noon  and  night,  and  much 
of  the  time  he  was  his  own  courier  back  to  Bucharest. 
General  Ignatieff  fancied  him  and  his  paper,  and  to 
this  Russian  commander  Forbes  was  indebted  for 
several  *Hips,"  much  as  MacGahan  came  under  obliga- 
tion to  Skobeleff.  These  were  days  of  tremendous 
toil  of  body  and  brain.     Years  after  Forbes  wrote: 

"To  this  day  I  shudder  at  the  recollection  of  those  long 
weary  rides.  .  .  It  was  mostly  night  when  I  reached  the 
Danube  where  the  bridge  of  boats  was.  Leaving  my 
horses  at  Sistova,  I  would  tramp  in  the  darkness  across  the 
bridge,  and  over  the  islands  and  flats,  ankle-deep  in  sand, 
the  three  miles  trudge  to  Simnitza,  the  village  on  the 
Roumanian  side  of  the  great  river.  I  have  reached  Simnitza 
so  beat  that  I  could  scarcely  stagger  up  the  slope.  Once 
when  I  got  to  the  bridge  I  found  that  it  was  forbidden 
to  cross  it.  Two  pontoons  in  the  centre,  said  the  officer, 
were  under  water,  and  there  was  no  thoroughfare.  .  .  . 
I  represented  that  I  did  not  belong  to  the  Russian  army.  .  .  . 
He  laughed,  said  if  I  drowned  it  was  no  affair  of  his,  and 
.  .  .  that  I  might  go  to  the  devil  if  I  had  a  mind.  I  found 
the  two  pontoons  submerged  as  he  said,  and  a  fierce  current 
running  over  them,  but  the  hand-rope  was  above  water. 
This  I  clutched,  and  crossed  the  interval,  hand  over  hand 
along  it,  sloshing  down  with  the  current  as  the  slack  of  the 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES'   '•*■'''   '  Toi 

rope  gave  to  my  weight.  Simnitza  reached  somehow,  there 
was  still  about  ninety  miles  to  Bucharest.  Off  then  to 
Giurgevo,  fifty  miles'  night  drive  in  a  rattletrap  drawn  by 
four  half-broken  ponies  harnessed  abreast.  I  have  been 
upset  freely  all  along  this  dreary  plain;  spilt  into  a  river  .  .  . 
overturned  by  a  dead  horse  into  a  dismal  swamp.  During 
the  railway  journey  from  Giurgevo  to  Bucharest  it  was 
possible  to  begin  my  round-hand  telegram,  writing  a  few 
words  at  a  time  when  the  stoppages  occurred.  .  .  .  Bucharest 
finally  reached  I  had  to  finish  my  message  without  delaying 
even  to  wash,  that  it  might  be  in  time  for  next  morning's 
paper  in  England." 

Villiers  and  Forbes  were  the  only  civilian  spectators 
of  the  desperate  and  futile  assault  of  July  31  upon 
Plevna.  Up  among  the  oak  shrubs  on  the  height, 
while  the  cannon  thundered  over  their  heads,  they 
watched.  Below  in  a  hollow  snug  among  the  foliage  lay 
Plevna  with  the  sun  glinting  on  the  spires  of  its  min- 
arets. Close  to  them  the  General  "with  set  face  and 
terrible,  eager  eyes, "  his  fingers  and  lips  working,  had 
his  post.  They  watched  "the  swift  rush,  the  upheaval 
of  the  flashing  bayonets,  and  listened  to  the  roar  of 
triumph,  sharpened  by  the  clash  of  steel  against  steel. " 
Looking  on  as  the  shell  fire  tore  gaps  in  the  Russian 
ranks  and  hearing  the  shouts  of  "God  and  the  Czar!" 
that  came  on  the  wind,  Forbes  was  trying  to  make 
his  notes.  For  three  hours  there  was  a  steady  current 
of  wounded  up  the  hills  from  the  battle.  The  debris 
straggled  sullenly  back.  The  Turks  spread  over  the 
field,  slaughtering  as  they  advanced.  They  threatened 
to  carry  the  ridge  on  which  the  observers  stood. 
Dragoons  from  the  reserve  reached  them  and  assured 
their  safety.  Cossack  and  correspondent  bivouacked 
together,  only  to  be  routed  out  by  the  alarm  of  the 
coming  of  the  Bashi-Bazouks.     With  the  dawning  of 


I()fe    'tAMOUSr  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  next  day,  Forbes  was  off  to  Bucharest.  "Mile 
after  mile  of  that  dreary  journey  my  good  horse 
covered  loyally,  weary  and  foodless  as  he  was,"  he 
wrote  in  later  years,  "but  I  felt  him  gradually  dying 
away  under  me.  The  stride  shortened  and  the  flanks 
began  to  heave  ominously;  I  had  to  spur  him  sharply, 
although  I  felt  every  stab  as  though  it  had  pierced 
myself.  If  he  could  only  hold  on  until  Sistova  rest  and 
food  awaited  him  there.  But  some  three  miles  short 
of  that  place  he  staggered  and  went  down.  I  had 
to  leave  the  poor  gallant  brute  where  he  fell  and  tramp 
on  into  Sistova  with  my  saddle  on  my  head."  It  is 
an  orderly  and  comprehensive  account  of  the  battle 
which  Forbes  wired  to  his  paper,  nevertheless.  And 
when  he  got  back  to  the  front  he  learned  that  the 
warnings  that  had  disturbed  him  again  and  again  on 
the  night  of  the  battle  were  not  needless,  for  the 
Turkish  marauders  did  massacre  many  wounded  whom 
they  found  on  the  field.  Forbes  himself,  for  personal 
courage  in  aiding  the  Russian  wounded,  was  decorated 
with  the  order  of  the  St.  Stanislaus.  It  was  at  this 
time  that  Forbes  made  use  of  his  pony  express  service 
across  the  Carpathians,  warned  by  his  despatcher  at 
Bucharest  of  the  unlikelihood  of  the  censor  permitting 
the  story  of  the  reverse  to  be  wired. 

After  three  weeks  Forbes  distinguished  himself 
yet  more,  for  he  bore  the  tidings  of  the  Shipka  Pass  not 
only  to  the  world  of  news  readers  but  to  the  Czar  of 
Russia  himself.  On  the  morning  of  August  22  he 
learned  at  the  Imperial  Headquarters  that  Suleiman 
Pacha  with  forty  battalions  was  threatening  the  Shipka. 
He  at  once  headed  for  the  impending  battle  and 
arrived  in  time  to  see  the  prolonged  and  desperate 
fighting  by  which  the  Turks  were  repulsed.     It  was 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  103 

always  said  of  this  correspondent  that  he  had  the 
intuition  of  battle.  He  felt  now  that  important  news 
was  bound  to  be  the  reward  of  his  labor,  and  this 
time  he  made  arrangements  in  advance  to  secure  a 
couj>  for  his  paper.  He  started  with  four  horses  and 
three  men.  At  intervals  of  twenty  miles  he  dropped 
a  man  and  a  horse.  Each  man  had  orders  to  be  on  the 
alert  every  hour.  Then  with  a  hired  pony  he  rode 
from  Gabrova  to  the  beginning  of  the  Pass,  and  spent 
a  day  in  the  Pass  itself  where  no  horse  had  much  chance 
to  stay  alive.  Strictly  the  Shipka  is  not  a  pass  at  all, 
but  a  cross  spur  of  the  Balkans  with  deep,  precipitous 
valleys  on  each  side,  with  other  spurs  beyond  them. 
The  Russians  were  on  a  few  knolls  at  the  top  of  the 
central  spur  thousan(Js  of  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  and  on  each  side  along  the  parallel  spurs  were  the 
Turks  commanding  completely  the  Russian  position 
in  three  directions. 

Before  daylight  the  sound  of  cannonading  reached 
Forbes.  It  swelled  louder,  seeming  to  come  down 
from  the  clouds.  The  road  became  tortuous,  twisting, 
turning  and  wriggling  upward.  Forbes  went  on  to  the 
skyline  and  sat  down  to  study  the  scene  below  him. 
In  an  instant  his  white  cap-cover  drew  bullets  from 
a  half-dozen  rifles.  He  was  under  fire  all  day  for  the 
fight  lasted  until  dark.    In  his  wire  to  the  paper  he  said : 

"At  length,  as  the  sun  grew  lower,  the  Turks  had  so 
worked  round  on  both  the  Russian  flanks  that  it  seemed  as 
though  the  claws  of  the  crab  were  about  momentarily  to 
close  behind  the  Russians,  and  that  the  Turkish  columns 
climbing  either  face  of  the  Russian  ridge  would  give  a  hand 
to  each  other  on  the  road  in  the  rear  of  the  Russian  position. 

"The  moment  was  dramatic.  .  .  .  The  two  Russian 
generals,  expecting  momentarily  to  be  environed,  had 
sent,  between  the  closing  claws  of  the  crab,  a  last  telegram 


104        FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

to  the  Czar,  telling  what  they  expected,  and  how  that,  please 
God,  driven  into  their  positions  and  beset,  they  would  hold 
these  till  reinforcements  should  arrive.  At  all  events, 
they  and  their  men  would  hold  their  ground  to  the  last  drop 
of  their  blood. " 

The  two  Russian  generals  were  on  the  peak.  They 
were  scanning  through  their  glasses  the  steep  brown 
road  below. 

"It  is  six  o'clock;  there  was  a  lull  in  the  fighting  of  which 
the  Russians  could  take  no  advantage,  since  the  reserves 
were  all  engaged.  The  grimed,  sun-blistered  men  were  all 
beaten  out  with  heat,  fatigue,  hunger  and  thirst.  There 
had  been  no  cooking  for  three  days,  and  there  was  no  water 
within  the  Russian  lines.  The  poor  fellows  lay  panting  on 
the  bare  ridge,  reckless  that  it  was  swept  by  the  Turkish 
rifle  fire.  Others  doggedly  fought  on  down  among  the 
rocks,  forced  to  give  ground,  but  doing  so  grimly  and  sourly. 
The  cliffs  and  valleys  send  back  the  triumphant  Turkish 
shouts  of  *Allah  il  Allah!'  " 

Suddenly  the  generals  clutched  each  other  and 
pointed  down  the  Pass.  There  was  an  electric  thrill 
of  excitement  even  in  the  gesture. 

"The  head  of  a  long  black  column  was  plainly  visible 
against  the  reddish-brown  bed  of  the  road.  *Now  God  be 
thanked!'  says  Stoletoff  solemnly.  Both  generals  bare 
their  heads.  The  troops  spring  to  their  feet.  They  descry 
the  long  black  serpent  coiling  up  the  brown  road.  Through 
the  green  copses  a  glint  of  sunshine  flashes,  banishes  the 
sombreness,  and  dances  on  the  glittering  bayonets. 

"  Such  a  gust  of  Russian  cheers  whirls  and  eddies  among 
the  mountain  gaps  that  the  Turkish  war  cries  are  wholly 
drowned  in  the  glad  welcome  which  the  Russian  soldiers 
send  to  the  comrades  coming  to  help  them. " 

The  rescuing  brigade  had  marched  fifty-five  kilo- 
meters without  cooking  or  sleeping  and  they  went 
into  action  without  a  breathing  halt.     The  crisis  of 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  105 

the  conflict  came  next  day.  The  Russians  carried  the 
Turkish  position.  The  Turks  were  sure  to  renew  the 
fight  the  following  day,  but  Forbes,  convinced  that 
Radetzky  could  hold  his  place,  decided  it  to  be  safe 
to  leave  with  his  news. 

His  horses  were  ready  at  the  relay  stations.  Pony 
express  fashion,  he  rode  and  changed,  always  going  at 
high  speed.  Riding  hard  all  night  and  all  day,  stopping 
neither  for  rest  nor  food,  he  came  back  to  the  Imperial 
Headquarters  in  advance  of  any  of  the  aides-de-camp 
who  had  been  sent  to  the  fighting  region  to  report  the 
progress  of  events. 

In  the  message  which  Forbes  sent  his  paper  he 
told  the  story  of  his  interview  with  the  Czar: 

"Having  communicated  some  details  to  the  officers 
of  my  acquaintance  on  the  Imperial  staff,  General  Ignatieff 
acquainted  the  Emperor  with  my  arrival,  and  His  Majesty 
did  me  the  honor  to  desire  that  he  should  hear  what  I  had 
to  tell  from  my  own  lips.  .  .  .  Answering  the  questions  of 
His  Imperial  Highness  was  like  going  through  a  competitive 
examination.  He  was  fully  master  of  the  subject,  and  if  I 
had  not  taken  pains  in  gathering  my  facts  from  a  wide  area, 
I  should  have  felt  extremely  foolish.  As  it  was  I  was  able  to 
draw  a  plan  of  the  operations  and  to  illustrate  my  unskilful 
draughtsmanship  by  verbal  explanations.  ..." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  Forbes  had  to  convince  an  Em- 
peror who  wondered  how  he  could  have  been  to  the 
Shipka  when  not  one  of  seven  aides-de-camp  had  been 
able  to  get  through.  In  the  end  he  did  convince  the 
Czar  of  the  soundness  of  his  judgment.  The  Emperor 
thanked  and  complimented  him  and  the  officer  who 
later  became  Prince  Charles  of  Bulgaria  sent  him  down 
to  the  Danube  in  a  carriage. 

George  W.  Smalley  had  the  story  in  later  years 
from  Forbes  himself,  and  the  American  correspondent 
thus  tells  the  climax  of  the  tale: 


106      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

"Crossing  the  Danube  at  Rustchuk  he  rode  on  to  Bucha- 
rest. .  .  .  He  arrived  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening.  He 
had  been  three  days  and  nights  either  in  the  saddle  or  in  the 
Shipka  trenches  under  fire,  without  sleep,  often  without 
food.  *I  was  dead  tired,'  said  Forbes.  *Not  a  word  of  my 
despatch  was  written,  and  I  had  news  for  which  I  knew  the 
world  was  waiting  —  news  on  which  the  fate  of  an  Empire 
and  the  fortunes  of  half  Europe  depended.  And  it  was  as 
much  as  I  could  do  to  keep  my  eyes  open,  or  sit  up  in  the 
chair  into  which  I  had  dropped.  .  .  . 

"  *I  told  the  waiter  to  bring  me  a  pint  oi  dry  champagne, 
unopened.  I  took  the  cork  out,  put  the  neck  of  the  bottle 
into  my  mouth,  drank  it  with  all  the  fizz,  sat  up  and  wrote 
the  four  columns  you  read  next  morning  in  the  Daily  News.* 

"As  a  piece  of  literature  the  four  columns  were  of  a 
high  order.  As  a  piece  of  news  they  were  one  of  the  greatest 
*  beats '  ever  known.  Taken  together,  and  with  all  that 
history  of  those  three  days,  they  would  entitle  Forbes,  even 
if  he  had  never  done  anything  else,  to  that  place  at  the  very 
head  of  his  profession  to  which  he  had  many  other  titles 
scarcely  less  valid." 

As  Forbes  left  the  Shipka  on  the  evening  of  the 
24th  he  knew  that  MacGahan  would  be  likely  to  arrive 
the  following  morning.  The  American  came  and 
saw  the  fighting  of  that  day,  and  on  the  evening  of 
the  25th  he  in  turn  quit  the  Pass,  and  by  almost  incred- 
ible exertions,  lame  as  he  was,  got  to  Bucharest,  and 
then  back  to  Plevna  in  time  for  Osman  Pasha's  furious 
sortie  of  the  morning  of  the  31st. 

In  similar  fashion  Forbes  and  MacGahan  divided 
the  duty  of  watching  and  reporting  the  series  of 
September  battles  which  made  the  third  Russian 
assault  upon  Plevna.  It  was  merely  a  little  town  of  a 
thousand  houses  on  crooked  and  wandering  streets. 
From  the  hills  it  was  just  a  clump  of  red-tiled  roofs 
and  whitewashed  walls,  with  several  staring  white 
minarets  and  a  green-painted  Christian  church  sur- 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  107 

mounted  by  gilded  crosses.  Two  brooks  meandered 
to  a  meeting  in  the  town.  Its  military  importance 
was  due  only  to  its  being  the  junction  of  two  high- 
roads and  several  smaller  ones.  But  for  months  it 
held  the  attention  of  the  whole  world.  After  five 
days  the  Russians  acknowledged  the  fruitlessness 
of  their  assaults.  Todleben  was  sent  for  and  the  long 
and  weary  siege  operations  began. 

But  Forbes  now  was  shattered  by  exposure,  fever 
and  fatigue.  At  one  time  in  Bucharest  he  was  near 
death  and  he  was  forced  to  leave  the  field  to  his  Amer- 
ican confreres.  Millet  and  MacGahan. 

Very  soon,  however,  he  was  again  on  the  war  path. 
The  Daily  News  sent  him  to  the  Afghan  War  in  1878. 
He  had  been  with  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley  in  Cyprus  and 
the  fever  had  had  him,  like  nearly  everybody  else, 
on  his  back,  but  he  got  to  Simla  in  time  to  join  the 
expedition.  During  a  lull  in  the  fighting  in  the  winter 
of  1878  Forbes  made  a  long  ride  with  two  companions 
and  some  servants  and  extra  horses  to  spend  Christmas 
at  Jelalabad.  It  was  a  tedious  and  a  perilous  trip. 
No  man  was  safe  a  thousand  yards  beyond  the  British 
lines,  but  they  took  their  chances  and  got  through  the 
Khyber  Pass,  reaching  their  friends  on  Christmas  eve. 
The  festivities  over,  the  restless  Forbes  hurried  to 
Burmah  to  interview  King  Theebau,  who  had  just 
succeeded  to  the  title  of  Lord  of  the  White  Elephant 
and  Monarch  of  the  Golden  Umbrella. 

As  he  came  down  the  Irrawady  he  saw  a  telegram 
which  told  of  the  massacre  of  Isandula,  and  an  hour 
later  he  was  not  greatly  surprised  to  receive  the  curt 
message,  "Go  and  do  the  Zulu  war."  At  once  he 
was  away,  across  India  from  Calcutta  to  Lahore,  down 


108     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  Indus  to  Kurrachee,  from  Kurrachee  by  steamship 
to  Aden,  thence  to  Zanzibar,  and  finally  down  the 
south-eastern  coast  of  Africa  to  Port  Durban. 

That  war  bore  heavily  on  the  newspapers  because 
of  the  expense  of  wiring  the  news.  The  massacre, 
the  death  of  the  Prince  Imperial,  and  the  battle  of 
Ulundi  were  events  of  the  first  importance,  and  the 
messages  were  correspondingly  long.  Forbes  was 
one  of  the  first  party  after  his  arrival  which  visited  the 
scene  of  the  massacre.  There  he  found  "  a  thousand 
corpses  had  been  lying  in  rain  and  sun  for  four  months. " 
He  wandered  about  over  the  field;  it  was  a  horror 
far  different  from  that  of  a  fresh  battle  ground.  A 
strange  dead  calm  prevailed.  The  line  of  flight 
could  be  easily  traced.  "It  was  like  a  long  string  with 
knots  in  it;  the  string  formed  of  single  corpses,  the 
knots  of  clusters  of  dead,  where,  as  it  seemed,  little 
groups  had  gathered  to  make  a  hopeless,  gallant  stand, 
and  so  die  fighting."  In  the  long  grass  he  stumbled 
over  skeletons  that  rattled  to  the  touch  of  his  feet. 
Some  bodies  were  mere  heaps  of  yellowed  bones. 
Others  were  covered  with  leatherlike  skin  under  which 
the  flesh  had  wasted  away.  Mournful  relics  were 
carefully  collected  by  the  members  of  the  party, 
some  books,  photographs,  and,  saddest  of  all,  letters 
from  families  and  friends  at  home. 

On  the  August  morning  in  1870  when  the  Prince 
Imperial  received  what  his  father  had  called  the 
"baptism  of  fire,"  Forbes  had  stood  on  the  heights 
of  Saarbruck  when  the  first  gun  was  fired  by  the 
Germans.  Now  after  nearly  nine  years,  when  the 
son  of  Napoleon  III.  and  the  Empress  Eugenie  had 
reached  the  age  of  twenty-one,  the  correspondent 
stood  with  bared  head  before  the  young  man's  body 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  109 

in  Zululand.  The  Prince  had  gone  out  with  the 
British  troops  to  have  a  glimpse  of  real  war.  He 
was  surprised  when  out  with  a  small  party  and 
slain  by  the  stealthy  Zulu  warriors.  Consternation 
reigned  in  the  camp  of  the  British  when  the  news 
reached  them.  At  once  a  searching  party  was  organ- 
ized and  several  war  correspondents  were  among  the 
large  number  of  men  who  were  spread  out  over  a  wide 
territory  seeking  for  the  body  of  the  fallen  Prince. 

Melton  Prior  has  told  how  he  rode  with  Forbes 
and  how,  when  a  man  raised  his  hand  and  signalled, 
Forbes  called  to  him  and  was  off  at  a  gallop,  being 
one  of  the  very  first  to  reach  the  body.  It  was  covered 
from  head  to  foot  with  assegai  wounds.  Says  Forbes: 
"We  found  him  lying  on  his  back,  stripped,  his  head 
so  bent  to  the  right  that  the  cheek  touched  the  sward, 
the  right  arm  stretched  out.  His  slayers  had  left 
a  little  gold  chain  which  was  clasped  round  his  neck, 
and  on  which  were  strung  a  locket  containing  a  minia- 
ture of  his  mother  and  another  enclosing  a  relic.  The 
relic  was  that  fragment  of  the  true  cross  which  was 
given  by  Pope  Leo  the  Third  to  Charlemagne  on  his 
coronation,  and  which  dynasty  after  dynasty  of 
French  monarchs  have  since  worn  as  a  talisman." 

Now  came  the  battle  which  ended  the  campaign 
and  the  last  and  perhaps  greatest  of  the  exploits  of  the 
Daily  News  man.  The  brunt  of  the  battle  of  Ulundi 
was  borne  by  a  column  of  fighting  Zulus  who  had  been 
a  terror  to  every  tribe  in  that  part  of  the  continent. 
They  were  worked  up  to  the  height  of  native  madness. 
The  night  before  the  battle  the  British  camped  within 
sight  of  the  town  and  all  night  they  heard  the  chanting 
of  weird  and  wild  war  songs  and  shouts  of  defiance. 
There  was  a  strange  bit  of  panic,  but  in  the  morning 


110      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  troops  were  marshalled  in  good  order  and  marched 
forward  in  the  form  of  a  great  square.  Out  of  the 
circular  kraal  of  Ulundi,  the  capital  of  Cetewayo,  the 
King  of  the  Zulus,  poured  the  warriors  in  black  masses. 
They  came  on  regardless  of  the  volleys  of  the  Gatling 
guns  and  Forbes  declared  their  valor  and  devotion 
unsurpassed  by  the  soldiery  of  any  age  or  nationality. 
They  converged  on  the  British  square  like  a  whirlwind, 
halting  to  fire,  then  rushing  forward  in  spite  of  artillery 
and  musketry. 

One  rush  which  came  within  a  few  yards  of  the 
square  was  the  last  charge  of  the  brave  blacks.  After 
they  had  retired  from  that  corner  which  had  been  the 
point  of  attack,  leaving  a  heap  of  dead  behind.  Melton 
Prior,  the  war  artist,  went  out  and  paced  off  the  distance 
to  the  nearest  body  and  found  it  to  be  nine  paces. 
The  Zulus  could  not  endure  the  appliances  of  civilized 
warfare  with  which  this  expedition  was  equipped. 
They  began  to  waver.  Lord  Chelmsford  saw  that  the 
instant  had  come  for  the  cavalry  to  bolt  from  the  square. 
He  gave  the  word.  The  foot  soldiers  made  a  gap 
in  the  line  and  cheered  as  Drury  Lowe  and  the  Lancers 
poured  through.  With  Buller's  Horse  they  rode  upon 
and  through  the  fleeing  Zulus  while  yet  they  were  in 
the  long  grass  racing  for  the  comparative  shelter  of  the 
rough  ground  beyond. 

The  correspondents  also  left  the  square.  Forbes 
and  Prior  rode  together  for  the  kraal  and  entered  it 
together,  but  they  got  separated  as  the  huts  began  to 
burn.  Later  when  they  met  Forbes  told  the  artist 
that  he  had  learned  that  Lord  Chelmsford  did  not 
intend  to  start  a  courier  for  the  coast  with  the  tidings 
of  the  victory  until  the  following  morning.  Here  was 
his  opportunity,  one  of  those  great  openings  for  which 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  in 

the  newspaper  man  sometimes  waits  for  years.  Forbes 
would  go;  he  would  start  almost  immediately  for  the 
wire.  The  nearest  telegraph  office  was  at  Lands- 
mann's  Drift,  and  between  Ulundi  and  this  telegraph 
key  there  yawned  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  of 
unmapped  country.  No  matter;  he  must  go.  Only 
thus  would  his  account  be  the  very  first  to  reach 
England.  He  allowed  himself  a  half-hour  in  which 
to  make  ready. 

If  Prior  could  draw  a  sketch  in  thirty  minutes 
Forbes  would  take  it  along  and  place  it  in  the  mails. 
The  artist  lost  not  a  second.  On  the  ground  he 
stretched  a  large  sheet  of  paper  and  in  the  course  of 
half  an  hour  he  made  a  rough  outline  sketch,  to  be 
elaborated  into  a  drawing  for  publication  in  the 
offices  of  the  Illustrated  London  News, 

Ere  he  started  Forbes  offered  to  take  messages  and 
information  from  Lord  Chelmsford  round  by  way  of 
Durban  to  General  Crealock  and  the  offer  was  accepted. 
As  he  was  about  to  swing  into  the  saddle  a  young 
officer  offered  an  even  bet  that  he  would  not  get  through, 
and  when  Forbes  accepted  the  soldier  insisted  that  the 
stakes  be  put  up,  cheerfully  saying  that  he  did  not 
expect  to  see  the  correspondent  alive  again.  Then 
Prior  and  a  few  news  men  and  officers  cheered  the 
bold  reporter  as  he  left  the  camp  upon  a  ride  that  is 
held  by  many  to  be  as  great  a  feat  as  any  war  corre- 
spondent has  ever  achieved. 

For  about  ten  miles  the  going  was  decidedly 
perilous.  The  only  road  was  the  trail  left  in  the  grass 
by  the  wagon  wheels  of  the  British  expedition  on  its 
way  to  the  Zulu  capital.  There  could  be  no  doubt 
but  that  hostile  stragglers  in  plenty  would  be  prowling 
about  in  the  bush.     The  way  led  near  the  kraals  which 


112     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

had  been  burned  by  the  British  and  to  the  neighborhood 
of  which  their  former  occupants  might  be  expected 
to  make  their  way  under  cover  of  darkness.  The 
first  hour  or  two  the  night  was  very  dark.  Against 
the  blaze  of  several  fires  in  the  vicinity  of  destroyed 
kraals  Forbes  saw  the  dark  figures  of  little  groups  of 
Zulus.  The  slight  breeze  brought  to  his  ears  the 
shouts  of  the  enemy,  sometimes  from  the  rear  and  some- 
times from  the  front.  The  bush  was  thick  in  places 
and  in  the  gloom  he  had  hard  work  to  trace  the  wagon- 
wheel  trail. 

Finally  he  lost  the  track  altogether.  Clearly  he  was 
off  the  line,  for  neither  could  he  see  a  rut  nor  could  the 
naked  hand  discern  one  as  he  dismounted  and  felt 
his  way  about  the  grass.  The  only  thing  to  do  was 
to  halt  in  dead  silence  and  await  the  rising  of  the 
moon.  Forbes  always  said  afterward  that  "the  longest 
twenty  minutes  of  his  life  was  spent  sitting  on  his 
trembling  horse  in  a  little  open  glade  of  the  bush,  his 
hand  on  the  butt  of  his  revolver,  waiting  for  the  moon's 
rays  to  flash  down  into  the  hollow."  Any  instant 
might  bring  the  enemy.  After  what  seemed  an  inter- 
val of  hours  rather  than  minutes  the  moon  rays  reached 
the  glade,  the  right  path  was  found,  and  the  rider 
fared  on  cautiously,  afraid  to  try  for  speed  until  he 
was  clear  of  the  belt  of  greatest  danger,  the  near 
region  of  the  hostile  blacks.  In  less  than  an  hour 
he  rode  into  the  reserve  camp  at  Etonganeni  and  told 
his  news. 

Now  he  must  spur  and  ride  for  dear  life  against 
time.  There  was  comparatively  small  danger  on  the 
back  trail,  although  later  Forbes  learned  that  a  British 
lieutenant  and  a  corporal  were  cut  down  by  the  Zulus 
that  same  night  on  the  road  over  which  he  plunged 


ARCHIBALD  FORBES  113 

at  a  hard  gallop.  But  there  were  forts  at  intervals  of 
about  fifteen  miles  and  fresh  horses  were  available 
with  the  chance  to  bolt  a  morsel  of  food  and  drink. 
Through  the  whole  night  he  rode  at  top  speed,  sparing 
himself  not  a  whit,  knowing  he  was  in  advance  of  all 
others,  but  determined  his  paper  should  have  his  wire 
at  the  first  possible  moment.  The  exertion,  he  said, 
"was  prolonged  and  arduous."  After  twenty  hours 
he  rode  into  Landsmann's  Drift.  Only  the  magnificent 
rider  whom  Prior  described  Forbes  to  be  could  have 
accomplished  the  distance  through  that  country  in 
that  time. 

Here  was  the  wire  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  despatch 
was  filed  and  the  key  was  clicking  it  off.  But  the 
correspondent's  labor  was  not  yet  over.  Not  only  did 
he  send  his  tidings  to  his  paper,  but  he  wired  them  also 
to  Sir  Bartle  Frere  and  to  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley.  The 
former  put  the  message  on  the  cable  and  sent  it  to  the 
London  offices,  and  amid  loud  cheers  the  despatch  was 
read  both  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  House  of 
Lords,  "a  proud  moment,"  said  The  Times,  "for  the 
confraternity  of  special  correspondents."  Thus  the 
news  of  Ulundi  first  came  to  England. 

But  Forbes  meanwhile  was  off  again.  He  rode  on 
to  Ladysmith  alone,  where  he  borrowed  a  buggy  and 
a  span  of  horses  with  the  promise  of  a  payment  of 
£100  if  they  were  returned  in  a  damaged  condition. 
Thence  he  fared  on  to  Estcourt  and  Maritzburg,  whence 
he  reached  Durban  by  post-cart  and  rail.  The  addi- 
tional one  hundred  and  seventy  miles  from  Lands- 
mann's Drift  was  done  in  thirty-five  hours.  Not 
only  did  Forbes  score  with  a  long  description  for  his 
paper,  but  he  put  Prior's  sketch  into  the  mails  and  it 
appeared  in  the  Illusirated  News  a  week  ahead  of  all 


114     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

rivals.  But  Forbes,  when  his  task  was  completed, 
was  in  a  state  of  utter  exhaustion;  even  his  iron  will 
could  compel  his  body  to  do  no  more. 

After  that  achievement  Forbes  did  little  of  con- 
sequence in  his  profession.  He  wrote  and  lectured  and 
talked  over  the  "good,  old  days"  with  his  fellow 
reporters.  He  had  depleted  even  his  tremendous 
physical  strength  by  his  ten  years  on  the  war  path. 
Finally  he  died  quietly  in  London  in  1900  and  was 
buried  in  Aberdeen.  A  tablet  with  a  medallion 
portrait  was  placed  in  his  honor  in  the  crypt  of  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral. 

Courage  and  energy,  with  a  ready  wit,  an  active 
brain,  and  a  facile  and  powerful  pen  made  Forbes 
the  really  great  special  that  he  was.  He  had  his 
enemies.  He  was  not  always  very  modest  and  he 
never  hesitated  to  criticize  the  plans  of  a  general  if  he 
did  not  approve  of  them.  He  has  been  accused  of 
appropriating  to  himself  the  feats  of  other  corre- 
spondents. But  if  he  had  not  possessed  self-confidence 
along  with  his  tenacity  of  purpose  and  his  resolution 
he  never  would  have  placed  to  his  credit  the  long  series 
of  reportorial  feats  which  belong  to  him  beyond  chal- 
lenge. He  had  the  genuine  military  instinct.  He 
could  write  a  vivid  and  moving  article  on  the  shortest 
notice  and  under  the  most  adverse  conditions. 

Kipling  hits  him  off  very  well  when  he  refers  to 
him  as  "The  Nilghai,  the  chief  est,  as  he  was  the 
hugest,  of  the  war  correspondents,  and  his  experience 
dated  from  the  birth  of  the  needle-gun.  Saving 
only  his  ally,  Kenen,  the  Great  War  Eagle,  there  was 
no  man  mightier  in  the  craft  than  he,  and  he  always 
opened  the  conversation  with  the  news  that  there 
would  be  trouble  in  the  Balkans  in  the  spring." 


CHAPTER  rV 
JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN 

"Of  all  the  men  who  have  gained  reputation  as  war  correspondents, 
I  regard  MacGahan  as  the  most  brilliant." 

—  Archibald  Forbes. 

Only  once  has  the  body  of  a  war  correspondent 
been  brought  across  the  Atlantic  by  an  American 
war  ship  that  his  final  resting  place  might  be  in  the 
land  that  gave  him  birth.  The  Legislature  of  the 
State  of  Ohio  appropriated  the  money  for  the  payment 
of  the  necessary  expenses;  the  United  States  ship 
Quinnebang  brought  the  casket  containing  the  remains 
of  Januarius  Aloysius  MacGahan  from  Constantinople 
to  Lisbon,  whence  the  cruiser  Powhatan  conveyed  it 
to  New  York  City.  His  foreign  grave  in  the  little 
cemetery  on  the  hill  behind  Pera  had  been  wept  over 
by  the  hero  of  the  Russo-Turkish  War,  General  Skobe- 
leff,  by  the  soldiers  and  war  correspondents  of  a  dozen 
nationalities,  and  by  the  oflScial  representatives  of  the 
United  States.  Upon  the  arrival  of  the  casket  in  New 
York  it  was  received  by  a  guard  of  honor  made  up  of 
press  men  who  had  been  in  the  field  in  the  Civil  War, 
and  thence,  with  appropriate  ceremonies,  it  was  taken 
to  the  Ohio  village  where  "the  Cossack  correspondent" 
was  born. 

Year  after  year  the  praises  of  this  bold  adventurer 
and  vivid  writer  are  chanted  in  rude  verse  by  the 
peasants  of  the  Balkans,  and  every  year  the  anniver- 
sary of  his  premature  death  is  commemorated  by  the 
singing  of  a  requiem  mass  in  the  cathedral  at  Tirnova, 


116     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  ancient  capital  of  Bulgaria.  When  he  was  riding 
among  the  Bulgarian  villages  in  war  time  the  peasants 
used  to  crowd  about  him  and  kiss  his  hands,  hailing 
him  as  their  liberator,  and  there  were  many  of  the 
Bulgars  who  agitated  for  the  choice  of  this  wandering 
writer  as  the  head  of  the  principality  whose  creation 
his  despatches  had  done  much  to  make  possible. 

MacGahan's  most  romantic  exploit  was  his  ride 
through  the  deserts  of  central  Asia  in  chase  of  the  army 
which  was  marching  against  Khiva,  defying  the 
absolute  prohibition  of  the  general  in  charge  of  the 
column,  keeping  well  ahead  of  the  troops  of  Cossacks 
on  his  trail,  and  venturing  amid  perils  that  proved  too 
much  for  several  of  the  expeditions  of  Russia.  The 
Russians  knew  audacious  bravery  when  they  saw  it, 
and  whenfhe  had  out-generaled  and  out-dared  them 
again  and  again,  they  made  MacGahan  their  friend 
and  comrade,  and  the  emperor  sent  him  the  decoration 
of  the  St.  Stanislaus. 

At  Khiva  began  the  romantic  friendship  of  Mac- 
Gahan and  General  Skobeleff.  Physically  both  were 
giants,  the  Russian  standing  six  feet  two  inches  in 
his  military  boots  and  the  American  six  feet  three. 
Both  were  reckless  of  peril,  careless  of  comfort  and 
indomitable  of  will.  Both  were  able  to  converse  in  a 
dozen  tongues  and  dialects.  Brothers  they  soon 
became,  eating  in  the  same  mess,  sleeping  in  the  same 
tent,  each  in  his  own  way  doing  his  duty  to  the  hilt. 

In  1876  the  American  wrote  the  letters  upon  the 
atrocities  of  the  Bashi-Bazouks  which  changed  the 
map  of  eastern  Europe.  They  were  so  simple  a 
recital  of  things  seen,  so  earnest,  so  clear,  so  pathetic 
and  awful  in  their  narration  of  barbarities  undreamed 
of  in  the  lands  beyond  the  Balkans,  that  they  took 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAIIAN    AND   FRANCIS   D.    MILLET 
From  a  photograph  loaned  by  J.  B.  Millet,  Esq. 


JANUARroS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     117 

hold  upon  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  men.  England 
was  profoundly  stirred.  Gladstone  was  roused  to  a 
fury  of  passionate  indignation.  And  the  end  was  an 
independent  Bulgaria.  The  army  of  the  Czar  gave 
the  Bulgars  their  freedom,  but  it  was  the  American 
correspondent  who  put  the  army  upon  the  field. 

When  the  war  came  MacGahan  was  hampered  by  an 
ankle  which  had  to  be  set  in  a  plaster  of  Paris  cast. 
The  small  bone  which  made  the  trouble  was  broken 
a  second  time,  but  the  imperturbable  reporter  had 
himself  hoisted  on  a  gun-carriage,  and  so  endured  the 
whole  hard  raid  with  Gourko  over  the  mountains  soon 
after  the  crossing  of  the  Danube.  He  managed  also 
to  go  through  the  entire  campaign  before  Plevna. 
Orders  came  for  him  to  "cover"  the  Berlin  Conference 
where  the  Powers  were  to  apportion  the  spoils  of  war, 
when  his  unselfish  devotion  to  an  American  friend 
down  with  typhoid  fever  cost  him  his  life. 

He  used  to  be  called  "the  Cossack  correspondent" 
because  of  the  swiftness  of  his  movements.  Frank 
Millet  named  him  "the  will-o'-the-wisp  of  war  writers. " 
George  Augustus  Sala  pronounced  him  one  of  the  most 
cosmopolitan  men  he  ever  had  met  —  "a  scholar,  a 
linguist,  a  shrewd  observer,  a  politician  wholly  free 
from  party  prejudice,  a  traveler  as  indefatigable  as 
Schuyler,  as  dashing  as  Burnaby,  as  dauntless  as 
Stanley." 

Such  a  future  no  one  would  have  predicted  for  the 
Irish  boy  who  was  born  amid  the  hills  of  Perry  County, 
Ohio,  on  June  12,  1844.  His  mother  was  widowed 
when  the  boy  was  seven  years  old,  and  she  decided 
to  use  the  little  money  that  fell  to  her  in  the  education 
of  her  children.  This  lad  grew  up  to  hate  oppression. 
The  name  he  bore  indicated  the  extraction  and  the 


118     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

faith  of  his  parents.  His  father  had  come  from 
Ireland,  and  the  boy's  sympathies  were  due  in  part  to 
the*paternal  teaching  regarding  the  injustices  inflicted 
upon  the  fatherland. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-four  MacGahan  went  to 
Europe,  to  improve  his  general  education  and  to 
study  law.  At  various  times  he  resided  in  Brussels, 
in  Germany  and  in  France.  When  Louis  Napoleon 
declared  war  upon  Prussia  he  was  at  work  in  the 
Belgian  city.  One  day  the  representative  of  the 
New  York  Herald  came  to  Brussels,  and  MacGahan 
ventured  to  him  with  an  offer  of  his  services  as  a 
special  correspondent.  He  was  "taken  on,"  and 
almost  immediately  he  began  to  make  his  record  of 
"scoops." 

He  reached  the  headquarters  of  the  old  Algerian 
hero  Bourbaki  in  time  to  witness  and  record  the 
disastrous  defeat  and  subsequent  dispersion  of  the 
demoralized  troops  in  Switzerland.  Thence  he  pro- 
ceeded to  Bordeaux  and  wrote  a  series  of  interviews 
with  the  leading  statesmen  of  France  which  attracted 
wide  attention  in  America  and  Europe.  Chief  among 
them  were  detailed  and  carefully  written  conversations 
with  Gambetta,  Louis  Blanc  and  Victor  Hugo.  When 
the  Assembly  adjourned  its  sittings  to  Paris,  MacGahan 
hurried  to  the  capital,  arriving  at  daybreak  on  the 
18th  of  March,  1871,  the  memorable  day  of  the  attack 
on  Montmartre.  He  noticed  an  unusual  commotion 
in  the  streets,  and  by  following  a  regiment  of  the  line 
he  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  the  only  reporter  present 
at  the  opening  of  the  Commune.  The  behavior  of  the 
young  American  throughout  those  days  of  peril,  his 
courage,  tact  and  industry,  made  him  famous  in  the 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSroS  MacGAHAN     119 

city.  He  sent  out  graphic  and  accurate  letters  which 
were  copied  by  the  papers  of  many  countries. 

K  the  Communists  hked  him  could  they  be  blamed? 
He  found  time  always  to  do  generous  and  kindly  deeds. 
Always  and  everywhere,  therefore,  he  was  sure  of  a 
hearty  welcome.  From  the  time  he  began  service  as 
a  newspaper  correspondent  until  his  fellow  reporters 
stood  by  his  grave  beside  the  Bosphorus,  he  won 
the  favor  of  all  whom  he  met,  going  from  one  knot  of 
companions  to  another  with  all  the  ease  and  innocence 
of  a  child,  leaving  affection  and  admiration  behind 
him. 

He  had  to  take  his  turn  in  prison  when  the  Ver- 
sailles troops  entered  the  city,  for  while  a  fierce  battle 
was  raging  in  the  streets  he  was  taken  into  custody. 
During  the  War  of  the  Commune  he  had  been  a  great 
deal  with  that  singular  champion  of  the  people,  the 
Pole,  Dombrowski,  and  for  that  comradeship  he 
several  times  nearly  paid  with  his  life,  and  he  was  de- 
nounced repeatedly  to  the  authorities  by  those  who 
knew  of  the  fellowship  of  this  odd  pair.  By  the  inter- 
cession of  Elihu  Washburne,  the  American  minister, 
who  earned  the  admiration  of  all  foreign  governments 
by  remaining  in  Paris  alone  of  the  ambassadors  through 
the  siege  and  the  Commune,  MacGahan  was  saved. 
Washburne  went  at  midnight  to  the  Place  Vendome 
and  made  formal  application  to  General  Douay  for 
the  release  of  his  countryman. 

Now  for  several  yfears  MacGahan  led  a  somewhat 
wandering  life.  He  penetrated  into  some  of  the  most 
remote  comers  of  the  Continent,  constantly  finding 
picturesque  materials  for  his  ready  pen  and  sending 
letters  to  the  Herald.  In  the  fall  of  1871  he  was  in  the 
Crimea,  staying  at  the  summer  residence  of  the  Czar. 


120      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Here  almost  by  chance  began  the  influences  which  made 
MacGahan  the  strong  friend  and  defender  of  the 
Russian  people.  Life  was  easy  at  the  summer  court; 
ceremony  was  relaxed  somewhat;  many  of  the  entourage 
were  considerably  bored. 

Suddenly  appeared  an  American  newspaper  man 
who  had  been  through  the  great  war  in  France,  the 
course  of  which  had  been  followed  with  intense  interest 
by  Russian  society.  Moreover,  this  young  man  was  of 
imposing  yet  modest  presence,  an  educated  gentleman, 
able  to  narrate  his  adventures  in  a  style  calculated  to 
rouse  the  attention  of  the  most  phlegmatic  listener. 
An  accident  befell  MacGahan  while  in  the  company 
of  an  aide-de-camp  who  was  guiding  him  among  the 
beautiful  places  along  the  coast.  Climbing  among  the 
rocks,  the  American  stumbled  and  broke  his  foot.  For 
three  weeks  he  was  in  bed. 

And  his  bedroom  forthwith  became  the  most 
popular  clubroom  in  Yalta,  where  every  man  who  had 
nothing  to  do  might  be  found  and  the  most  lively  and 
diverting  conversation.  It  was  not  strange,  then, 
that  when  at  the  beginning  of  December  the  court 
went  back  to  the  capital  MacGahan  accompanied  his 
new  friends.  That  winter  he  spent  in  St.  Petersburg. 
In  the  spring  with  the  party  of  General  Sherman  he 
went  to  the  Caucasus,  whence  he  wrote  a  series  of 
letters.  From  the  Russian  capital  again  he  was 
ordered  to  Geneva  to  "cover"  the  meeting  of  the 
Alabama  Claims  Arbitration  Commission.  Then  for 
a  time  he  went  about  Europe  wherever  there  seemed 
to  be  a  promise  of  news.  Ere  long  he  saw  and  seized 
the  opportunity  which  enrolled  his  name  for  all  time 
in  the  lists  of  distinguished  journalists. 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     121 

Eugene  Schuyler,  author  of  a  standard  work  on 
Turkestan,  many  times  indulged  in  unrestrained 
eulogy  of  the  man  who  made  the  ride  through  the 
desert  in  quest  of  a  Russian  army  which  not  even  a 
Cossack  would  have  dreamed  of  pursuing.  Said 
Schuyler:  "His  ride  across  the  desert  was  spoken  of 
everywhere  in  Central  Asia  as  by  far  the  most  wonder- 
ful thing  that  had  ever  been  done  there,  as  he  went 
through  a  country  which  was  supposed  to  be  hostile, 
knowing  nothing  of  the  roads  or  of  the  language. 
Even  the  officer  whose  scouts  had  failed  to  catch 
MacGahan  was  delighted  at  his  pluck." 

Other  journals  abandoned  the  idea  of  sending 
reporters  with  the  expedition  into  a  remote  and  mys- 
terious land  in  Central  Asia,  when  they  learned  that  the 
Russian  authorities  had  decided  not  to  permit  corre- 
spondents to  accompany  the  column.  The  one  English 
correspondent  who  did  make  the  effort  failed  to  pene- 
trate any  distance  into  the  country.  MacGahan, 
with  two  or  three  attendants  who  did  not  understand 
him  and  whom  he  did  not  understand,  well  armed  but 
indifferently  provisioned,  made  a  march  through  the 
terrible  desert,  where  almost  every  hour  death  threat- 
ened him  by  sunstroke  or  thirst  or  massacre.  Cossack 
horsemen  chased  him  for  nearly  nine  hundred  miles, 
reaching  his  halting  places  always  a  few  hours  after 
he  had  left  them. 

Day  after  day  he  rode  on  his  weary  way,  sometimes 
obliged  to  walk  in  sand  into  which  he  sank  to  his  knees, 
and  daily  the  dread  of  failure  weighed  more  and  more 
heavily  upon  him.  On  the  twenty-ninth  day,  worn  to 
the  bone  with  fatigue,  he  reached  the  camp  of  General 
Kauffmann.  Twice  he  was  arrested  and  twice  he  defied 
the  positive  orders  against  correspondents  going  with 


122     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  expedition.  Finally,  because  the  interdiction  was 
directed  against  the  representatives  of  English  papers 
especially,  and  he  was  an  American,  and  in  part  through 
the  intercession  of  his  new  friend  Skobeleff,  he  was  for- 
given by  the  general  in  command.  The  story  is  told 
in  large  part  in  his  book,  "Campaigning  on  the  Oxus," 
although  to  get  it  all  one  must  hear  such  men  as 
Villiers  discourse  of  the  tales  they  extracted  from  their 
fellow  campaigner.  In  his  picturesque  style  MacGahan 
thus  began  his  vivid  narrative : 

"A  bright,  sunny  afternoon.  A  wide,  level  expanse 
of  plain,  cut  up  here  and  there  by  canals,  and  dotted  with 
clumps  of  brushwood;  on  the  south,  extending  to  the  horizon, 
a  sedgy  marsh,  over  which  flocks  of  waterfowl  are  careening 
in  swiftly  changing  clouds  that  sometimes  hide  the  sun;  to 
the  west  a  caravan  with  its  string  of  camels,  creeping  slowly 
along  the  horizon's  edge,  like  a  mammoth  snail;  to  the  east, 
the  walls  of  a  mud-built  town,  over  which,  leaning  up  against 
the  sky  like  spears,  rise  the  tall,  slender  masts  of  ships. 

"The  place  is  Central  Asia,  near  the  Syr-Darya  River, 
or  Yaxartes;  fifty  miles  east  of  the  northern  shores  of  the 
Aral  Sea;  the  time  the  19th  of  April,  1873. 

"In  the  foreground  there  is  a  tarantass  —  a  long,  low, 
black  vehicle  —  in  the  midst  of  a  swiftly-running  stream; 
six  or  eight  horses  are  splashing  and  running  wildly  about  in 
the  water,  systematically  refusing  with  exasperating  persist- 
ence to  pull  together;  four  or  five  Kirghiz  postillions, 
some  on  the  horses,  some  in  the  water  up  to  their  waists, 
are  pushing  at  the  wheels,  shouting  with  savage  energy, 
while  the  wheels  sink  deeper  and  deeper  at  every  movement 
of  the  maddened  beasts.  In  the  tarantass  two  disconsolate- 
looking  travelers,  wrapped  up  in  rugs  and  sheepskins,  who 
watch  dejectedly  but  resignedly  the  downward  tendency 
of  the  wheels,  awaiting  despondently  the  moment  when 
the  water  will  be  running  into  the  box,  over  feet,  rugs, 
arms  and  provisions. 

"The  two  travelers  are  Mr.  Eugene  Schuyler,  charge 
d*  affaires  of  the  United  States  at  St.  Petersburg,  on  a  tour 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     123 

of  observation  in  Central  Asia,  and  the  writer,  on  his  way 
to  Khiva." 

And  why  should  he  wish  to  go  to  Khiva?  For 
divers  reasons:  the  New  York  Herald  wanted  to  satisfy 
the  American  desire  for  information  about  that  distant 
and  little-known  region;  it  was  an  adventurous  under- 
taking and  promised  to  provide  an  abundance  of 
"  copy  "  of  an  altogether  unusual  kind.  Russia  **  wished 
to  reduce  to  subjection  the  only  remaining  Khanate 
in  Central  Asia  which  still  refused  to  acknowledge  her 
supremacy,  as  well  as  to  advance  her  frontier  to  the 
Oxus,  and  gain  complete  possession  of  the  river  as 
far  up  as  the  boundary  of  Bokhara."  The  fall  of 
Khiva  would  exercise  a  strong  moral  influence  upon 
all  the  Mohammedan  populations  of  Central  Asia. 
It  was  considered  impregnable  and  inaccessible;  it 
was  the  last  great  stronghold  of  Islamism  in  Central 
Asia  after  Bokhara  had  fallen;  and  its  conquest  would 
tend  to  confirm  the  belief,  already  widespread  in  those 
countries,  that  the  Russians  were  invincible. 

Such  considerations  as  these  influenced  St.  Peters- 
burg to  send  various  bodies  of  troops  from  several 
starting  points  into  the  desert,  with  the  expectation 
that  they  would  converge  on  Khiva.  The  Grand 
Duke  Nicholas  was  to  start  from  Kazala.  General 
Kauffmann,  with  2500  men  and  a  train  of  4000  camels, 
was  to  march  to  Khiva  from  Tashkent.  The  nerve 
of  this  able  commander  and  the  endurance  of  his  men 
were  tested  to  the  utmost  before  they  reached  the 
Oxns. 

To  reach  the  point  mid-stream  to  which  MacGahan 
referred  he  had  made  the  long  journey  from  the  Volga. 
"Day  after  day,  night  after  night,  week  after  week, 
he  had  glided  over  snowy  level  plains  over  which  the 


124     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

icy  Siberian  winds  rushed  in  furious  blasts."  Ice  and 
snow  gave  place  to  heat  and  sand  as  he  went  farther 
and  farther  south.  At  length  he  made  his  real  start 
with  Schuyler  as  a  companion  for  the  first  stage  of  the 
journey.  They  waited  many  hours  there  mid- 
stream and  soon  after  being  extricated  they  were  in 
the  streets  of  Kazala.  MacGahan  had  hoped  when  he 
left  St.  Petersburg  that  he  might  be  in  time  to  join  the 
column  of  the  Grand  Duke  there.  He  was  almost  a 
month  too  late.  The  column  was  three  hundred  miles 
away  in  the  desert.  The  two  forces,  one  from  Tashkent 
and  one  from  Kazala,  were  to  meet  in  the  mountains 
one  hundred  miles  from  the  Oxus. 

What  was  the  belated  correspondent  to  do.''  He 
decided  that  he  would  venture  alone  upon  the  trail  of 
the  Kazala  detachment.  If  he  reached  the  Oxus  after 
the  army  had  crossed  he  would  trust  to  his  star  for 
getting  over  somehow  and  evading  the  Khivan  cavalry 
which  would  probably  be  hanging  on  its  rear.  Camels 
he  could  not  get.  With  them  his  sojourn  in  the 
desert  might  have  been  comparatively  pleasant,  for 
he  then  might  have  carried  a  tent,  carpets,  provisions 
and  clothing.  Horses  meant  the  loss  of  even  the 
comforts  of  the  nomads,  but  with  them  he  hoped  to 
make  the  distance  in  half  the  time. 

On  the  30th  of  April  he  bade  Mr.  Schuyler  farewell 
and  crossed  the  Yaxartes  at  a  point  several  days 
journey  from  Kazala.  With  him  were  an  old  Tartar 
interpreter,  a  guide,  and  a  young  servant  to  look  after 
the  baggage  and  the  six  horses.  Of  his  armament  he 
discoursed  in  racy  style: 

"Being  a  man  of  peace  I  went  but  lightly  armed.  A 
heavy  double-barreled  English  hunting  rifle,  a  double- 
barreled  shotgun,  both  of  which  pieces  were  breech-loading, 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     125 

an  eighteen-shooter  Winchester  rifle,  three  heavy  revolvers, 
and  one  ordinary  muzzle-loading  shotgun,  throwing  slugs, 
besides  a  few  knives  and  sabres,  formed  a  light  and  unpreten- 
tious equipment.  Nothing  was  farther  from  my  thoughts 
than  fighting.  I  only  encumbered  myself  with  these  things 
in  order  to  be  able  to  discuss  with  becoming  dignity  questions 
relating  to  the  rights  of  way  and  of  property  with  inhabitants 
of  the  desert,  whose  opinions  on  these  subjects  are  some- 
times peculiar.  '* 

The  first  day  brought  him  into  the  midst  of  the 
Kirghiz,  a  people  having  a  very  sinister  reputation 
even  for  that  region.  He  had  enough  property  to 
make  a  rich  prize.  He  knew  he  must  adopt  one  of 
two  systems  in  dealing  with  this  people,  either  fight 
them  or  throw  himself  entirely  upon  their  protection 
and  generosity.  Choosing  the  latter  policy,  he  would 
enter  a  tent,  unsling  his  Winchester  and  hand  it  along 
with  his  belt  and  revolver  to  his  host,  and  then  throw 
himself  on  the  rugs  before  the  fire. 

Even  on  the  second  day  he  began  to  suffer  from 
thirst.  Wild  stretches  of  sand  were  about  him.  The 
fifth  day,  for  the  first  time  but  not  for  the  last,  he  lost 
his  way  and  found  himself  going  back  over  the  trackless 
sand  toward  Kazala.  That  day,  too,  the  agonies  of 
thirst  became  almost  unendurable.  He  was  fresh 
from  the  snows  of  Siberia  and  had  been  riding  fifty 
miles  a  day.  No  wonder  that  without  water  for 
twenty-four  hours  his  throat  seemed  to  be  on  fire, 
fever  mounted  to  his  head  and  his  eyes  grew  inflamed. 
A  shallow  pool  of  muddy  water,  which  coated  his  mouth, 
throat  and  stomach  with  slime,  was  his  only  resource. 
At  three  in  the  morning  they  saddled  their  horses 
under  the  stars  and  fared  on.  That  day  brought 
them  to  a  little  Russian  fort,  but  they  found  no  news 


126     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

either  of  the  column  of  the  Grand  Duke  or  of  Kauff- 
mann. 

Now  he  entered  the  part  of  the  desert  offering  the 
greatest  danger  to  travelers  and  surrounding  them  with 
the  greatest  horrors.  The  friendly  rivers  and  the  fre- 
quent pools  and  wells  of  water  were  left  behind.  Once 
lost  in  the  desert  ocean  and  he  might  wander  for  days 
until  himself  and  his  horse  should  sink  exhausted  to 
die  of  thirst. 

"The  angry  sun  sinks  slowly  down  the  western  sky," 
wrote  the  correspondent,  "as  though  loth  to  leave  us,  and 
then  suddenly  drops  below  the  horizon.  The  shades  of 
evening  gather,  the  desert  fades  into  the  gloom  of  night, 
and  then  suddenly  reappears  again,  weird  and  spectral  in 
the  shadowy  light  of  the  rising  moon.  The  hours  slip  by; 
we  pass  the  silent  tents,  and  smouldering  fires,  and  crouching 
camels  of  the  Khivan  ambassador,  who  has  camped  here 
hours  before;  and  though  the  moon  has  now  mounted  to  the 
meridian  we  still  continue  our  rapid  course. 

"A  hurried  nap,  and  again  we  are  on  our  way.  The 
red  sun  flashes  angrily  up  the  eastern  horizon,  and  now 
there  is  scarcely  any  vegetation  —  not  even  the  poisonous 
upas-like  weed.  Hotter  the  sun  grows  as  we  advance,  and 
more  fiery,  until  he  reaches  the  zenith,  and  glares  fiercely 
down  on  us  from  the  pitiless  sky.  The  sands  gleam  and  burn 
under  the  scorching  heat  like  glowing  cinders;  the  atmos- 
phere turns  to  a  misty  fiery  glare,  that  dazzles  the  eye  and 
bums  the  brain  like  the  glow  from  a  seven  times  heated 
furnace;  low  down  on  the  horizon  the  mirage  plays  us  fan- 
tastic tricks  with  its  spectrum-like  reflection  of  trees  and 
water  —  shadows  perhaps  of  the  far-off  gardens  of  Khiva 
and  the  distant  Oxus;  our  -  horses  plod  wearily  forward 
through  the  yielding  sand,  drooping  heads  and  ears,  until 
at  last  I  find  myself,  as  evening  approaches,  lying  exhausted 
on  the  sand  by  the  well  of  Kyzin-Kak. " 

The  seventh  day  brought  him  a  staggering  blow. 
The  leader  of  a  caravan  which  he  met  told  him  he  was 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSroS  MacGAHAN     127 

almost  as  far  from  KauflFmann  after  these  marches 
through  the  desert  as  when  he  started.  He  was 
within  a  day's  march  of  the  mountains  where  he 
supposed  Kauffmann  would  form  a  junction  with  the 
column  of  the  Grand  Duke.  Not  so!  Kauffmann 
had  taken  a  different  route.  He  had  started  ten  days 
before  due  south  for  the  Oxus  rather  than  northwest  to 
the  mountains. 

With  many  misgivings  MacGahan  decided  to  go  on. 
Going  back  was  almost  as  difficult  as  going  forward, 
but  it  might  be  weeks  before  he  overtook  the  Russian 
troops.  He  pushed  on,  however,  staying  all  night  in 
the  saddle,  and  at  sunrise  caught  his  first  glimpse  of  the 
mountains  twenty-five  miles  away.  On  the  ninth 
day  he  met  a  party  of  guides  who  had  been  with  the 
column  of  the  Grand  Duke.  And  again,  alas!  The 
Grand  Duke  had  met  Kauffmann  more  than  a  week 
before,  and  the  two  had  marched  for  the  river  together. 

Again  he  traveled  most  of  the  night.  Next  day 
he  heard  a  recital  of  the  depredations  of  the  marauding 
Turcomans.  He  changed  his  route  once  more,  hoping 
by  a  diagonal  course  to  shorten  his  distance.  Provok- 
ing delays  of  three  days  were  due  to  the  difficulties  of 
getting  sheep  for  food.  The  guide  proved  intractable 
and  treacherous.  Nights  were  passed  in  the  sand  with- 
out shelter.  The  horses  sank  to  their  knees  and  began 
to  show  great  fatigue.  Loads  were  lightened,  but  one 
horse  stumbled  and  fell  his  length  in  the  sand  with  a 
groan,  to  be  left  alone  in  the  gloom  of  the  desert. 
This  phantom  chase  could  not  continue  much  longer. 
The  death  of  the  animal  seemed  but  the  harbinger  of 
doom  to  the  determined  correspondent,  as  the  horses 
panted  up  steep  ascents,  slid  down  into  hollows  and 
wrestled  with  the  inexorable  sand. 


128     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

On  the  seventeenth  morning  MacGahan  saw  through 
the  field  glass  tents  shining  in  the  sunlight  and  masses 
of  soldiers  and  the  glitter  of  bayonets.  It  must  be 
Kauffmann,  he  thought. 

But  it  was  not!  He  had  struck  Kauffmann's 
trail  at  last,  after  a  chase  of  more  than  two  weeks 
and  a  ride  of  five  hundred  miles,  but  Kauffmann  had 
marched  from  this  camp  five  days  before!  "And  by 
the  time  I  can  reach  the  river  he  will  have  crossed  it 
and  taken  Khiva,"  MacGahan  miserably  concluded. 
The  oflficer  in  command  here  was  Colonel  Weimarn, 
and  for  the  first  time  the  American  news  man  was 
treated  rudely  by  a  Russian. 

Colonel  Weimarn  refused  to  allow  MacGahan 
to  go  on  without  the  written  permission  of  Kauffmann. 
That  permission  could  only  be  had  from  the  general 
himself.  And  the  general  was  well  on  his  way  to 
Khiva.  The  correspondent  was  here  in  the  rear  with 
the  general  getting  farther  away  all  the  time.  Colonel 
Weimarn  would  examine  no  credentials,  listen  to  no 
expostulations,  render  no  assistance. 

MacGahan's  spirit  rose  to  meet  the  emergency.  He 
could  get  no  Russian  escort  to  go  forward  on  the 
trail  of  Kauffmann.  He  would  go  on  alone.  Cossacks 
would  pursue  him,  no  doubt;  and  he  would  have  to  dare 
the  Turcoman  cavalry  who  would  be  hanging  on  the 
rear  of  the  Russian  column.  He  began  to  recall 
pictures  he  had  seen  of  Turcomans  emptying  human 
heads  out  of  sacks  on  the  grand  square  of  Khiva  to 
the  admiration  of  a  smiling  crowd!  Nevertheless  he 
decided  to  flit  between  sunset  and  sunrise,  and  once 
more  take  up  the  chase  of  Kauffmann. 

Five  days  passed.  It  was  clear  that  Colonel 
Weimarn  would  deal  severely  with  the  American  if 


JANUARroS  ALOYSroS  MacGAHAN     129 

he  caught  him  trying  to  escape.  He  even  would  not 
give  any  grain  whatever  to  the  horses  of  the  corre- 
spondent, and  they  were  now  in  a  most  miserable  plight. 
At  one  in  the  morning  of  May  24  MacGahan  and 
his  men  dropped  silently  to  the  rear  of  the  Cossacks 
who  were  now  on  the  march,  turned  their  horses' 
heads  to  the  north  and  plunged  into  the  darkness. 
The  pole  star  was  their  guide.  When  dawn  came  they 
could  dimly  discern  the  Weimarn  detachment  on  the 
horizon.  They  hurried  on,  floundering  through  huge 
drifts  of  sand  twenty  and  thirty  feet  high,  which 

"piled  up  in  all  sorts  of  fantastic  shapes,  exactly  like  snow- 
drifts, were  continually  changing  their  form,  and  moving 
about  under  the  action  of  the  wind.  The  wind  kept  sifting 
the  sand  over  them  in  little  clouds,  and  the  drifts  were  so 
deep  and  so  high  that  working  their  way  over  them  was  most 
difficult  and  toilsome.  The  horses  sank  nearly  to  their 
bellies.  They  were  obliged  to  dismount.  Even  then  they 
only  struggled  through  by  a  succession  of  plunges  while 
their  masters  themselves  sank  to  their  knees.  This  con- 
tinued for  nearly  two  miles.  One  of  those  storms  which 
so  often  sweep  over  the  desert  would  have  sent  these  huge 
drifts  rolling  over  them,  and  in  an  instant  buried  them  twenty 
feet  deep,  leaving  not  a  trace  behind. " 

Another  horse  was  left  to  die.  Of  the  others,  two 
could  go  not  more  than  another  day.  Intolerable 
thirst  assailed  them  all.  Next  morning  after  two  hours' 
ride  bayonets  were  seen  glittering  in  the  sunlight. 
He  had  overtaken  a  rear  detachment  of  Kauffmann's 
troops.  The  main  body  had  left  this  camp  six  days 
before.  MacGahan  was  glad  enough  to  rest  a  few 
hours  and  enjoy  some  refreshment. 

But  there  was  danger  in  tarrying,  for  messengers 
from  Weimarn  might  overtake  him  at  any  minute. 
He  got  barley  for  his  horses,  and  "to  tell  the  truth," 


130     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

he  said,  "matters  had  arrived  at  such  a  point  that 
success  or  failure,  and  perhaps  my  own  life,  depended 
upon  a  bushel  of  barley." 

Next  day  at  noon  he  again  was  in  the  saddle  on  the 
way  to  the  Oxus.  His  hosts  assured  him  the  Tur- 
comans would  get  him.  He  found  the  road  broad  and 
plain  and  dead  camels  at  every  few  yards  served  as 
guide-posts.  The  horses  again  sank  to  their  knees 
in  the  yielding  sand.  At  last  he  reached  the  river, 
and  at  the  very  spot  where  Kauffmann  had  taken  off 
his  cap  and  devoutly  crossed  himself  at  sight  of  the 
longed-for  water.  In  the  morning  he  could  see  up 
and  down  the  river  for  twenty  miles;  about  him  were 
the  dead  ashes  of  many  campfires,  and  that  was  all. 

He  had  now  been  seeking  the  ever-receding  Russian 
commander  for  twenty-nine  days.  At  the  outset  he 
had  expected  to  overtake  him  in  five.  But  —  it  must 
be  forward  again,  ascending  stealthily  every  little 
hillock,  and  peering  cautiously  over  before  advancing, 
and  through  fieldglasses  surveying  continuously  the 
opposite  shore. 

Through  the  night  the  march  went  on  with  no 
signs  of  Kauffmann  but  burnt-out  campfires.  Nerves 
were  tightly  strung.  The  situation  was  critical. 
Twice  his  little  party  had  been  seen  from  across  the 
river.  At  last  when  the  horses  had  made  forty-five 
miles  MacGahan  decided  to  camp.  His  men  refused 
to  stand  guard.  So  all  night  long  the  young  American 
kept  his  gloomy  watch  in  darkness  so  dense  that 
he  could  see  only  a  yard  before  him. 

Daylight  came,  and  as  they  started  on  a  half -hour 
after  sunrise  their  ears  were  struck  by  a  report  that  went 
through  them  like  an  electric  shock.    Another  and 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     131 

another  came  rolling  up  the  valley  of  the  Oxus  at  short 
and  regular  intervals. 

It  was  the  roar  of  cannon! 

This  time  it  was  Kauffmann  sure  enough. 

But  the  Turcomans  were  with  him,  and  now  was 
the  most  critical  moment  of  the  whole  journey.  Mac- 
Gahan  peered  over  hill  after  hill,  advancing  with  utmost 
care,  trying  to  locate  the  position  of  the  contend- 
ing parties  and  to  avoid  the  Khivans.  Luck  helped 
him  a  little;  daring  did  the  rest.  He  bolted  through 
an  opening  in  the  lines  of  the  Turcomans  and  in  safety 
reached  the  Russian  outposts. 

Anofficer  advanced  and  cried:  "Vuikto?"  "Who 
are  you?" 

"Americanetz,"  replied  the  correspondent. 

In  a  little  while  he  was  in  the  presence  of  the  man 
he  had  trailed.  General  Kauffmann  was  taking  tea 
and  smoking  a  cigarette. 

"A  molodyetz,  a  molodyetz,"  "a  brave  fellow, 
a  brave  fellow, "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  heard  the  tale  of 
MacGahan,  and  a  "molodyetz"  MacGahan  remained 
always  thereafter  wherever  in  Russia  he  was  named. 
From  a  Russian  there  could  be  no  higher  encomium. 

The  next  call  was  upon  the  Grand  Duke  Nicholas, 
who  was  found  living  in  a  Khivan  mud-house,  which 
was  the  first  house  he  had  occupied  for  three  months. 
All  welcomed  the  American  heartily.  That  night  he 
had  the  first  tranquil  and  prolonged  sleep  that  had  been 
his  for  more  than  sixty  days. 

But  what  about  the  pursuing  company  of  Cossacks? 
MacGahan's  presentiment  of  danger  was  well-founded. 
After  some  days  at  Khiva  he  learned  that  but  a  few 
hours  after  he  had  left  Alty-Kuduk  an  officer  at  the 
head  of  twenty-five  Cossacks  had  arrived,  breathless. 


132     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

with  an  order  to  arrest,  disarm,  and  take  him  back  to 
Tashkent.  The  officer  had  come  all  the  way  from 
there,  about  six  hundred  miles,  hoping  to  intercept 
the  correspondent  in  the  desert.  From  passing  cara- 
vans and  wandering  Kirghiz  he  heard  from  time  to 
time  of  the  hurrying  American.  He  got  on  the  trail 
and  lost  it,  found  it  and  lost  it  again,  found  it  once 
more,  and,  having  killed  several  horses,  he  reached 
Alty-Kuduk  a  few  hours  too  late.  There  they  laughed 
at  him,  telling  him  to  follow  if  he  dared,  but  assuring 
him  that  the  American  was  either  with  Kauffmann,  or 
the  jackals,  and  in  either  case  out  of  his  jurisdiction. 

MacGahan  explained  the  reason  for  all  this  trouble 
on  his  account.  The  Russians  claimed  that  every 
foreigner  who  ever  had  gone  into  Central  Asia  and 
gotten  into  trouble  had  invariably  accused  them  of 
having  a  hand  in  it.  Sometimes  they  had  caused  the 
Czar  considerable  difficulty.  Therefore  to  save  time 
the  Emperor  ordered  that  no  more  Europeans  be 
allowed  to  enter  Turkestan.  But  MacGahan  was  an 
American!  He  argued  that  the  prohibition  did  not 
apply  in  his  case,  and  he  stayed  with  the  column. 

He  was  with  the  Russian  army  until  the  end  of  the 
campaign  against  Khiva,  and  after  that  during  the 
war  with  the  Turcomans.  He  met  with  kindness 
from  all,  from  the  Grand  Duke  down  to  the  smallest 
officer  in  the  detachment.  On  June  1  he  crossed  the 
Oxus  with  Kauffmann  and  his  staff.  Soon  they 
entered  a  region  of  cool  shade  and  fresh  verdure 
which  seemed  Edenic  after  the  red-hot  glare  of  the 
desert. 

On  June  10  the  troops  entered  the  city  of  Khiva. 
MacGahan  was  at  home  everywhere,  in  the  streets, 
the  palace,  even  in  the  harem,  and  there,  when  he  saw 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSroS  MacGAHAN     133 

the  eyes  of  a  Caucasian  sultana  turned  upon  him  in  a 
half -imploring  way,  he  had  an  adventure  which  seems 
very  like  one  of  the  tales  out  of  the  Arabian  Nights. 

He  could  not  forget  the  "calm,  majestic  figure,  as 
she  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  enemies  of  her  race  and 
religion,  with  weeping  women  and  children  relying 
upon  her  for  protection,"  and  he  determined  to  help 
her  if  possible.  That  night  he  accomplished  the  feat 
of  entering  the  harem  alone  and  unguided. 

Near  midnight,  when  the  sleeping  city  was  "bathed 
in  a  flood  of  glorious  moonlight,  and  the  whole  place 
was  transformed,  the  flat  mud  roofs  turned  to  marble, 
and  the  tall,  slender  minarets  rising  dim  and  indistinct 
like  spectral  sentinels,"  the  whole  region  "seeming 
but  a  leaf  torn  from  the  enchanted  pages  "  of  an  Oriental 
tale,  he  broke  down  the  padlocked  door  in  the  tower 
overlooking  the  court  of  the  harem,  and  descended  a 
stairway  that  seemed  to  lead  to  its  inner  apartments. 

Revolver  in  hand,  he  moved  along  in  the  darkness, 
through  many  rooms  and  along  the  walls  of  various 
courts,  involved  soon  in  a  hopeless  labyrinth  of  doors 
and  halls.  A  flickering  match  revealed  that  he  stood 
on  the  verge  of  a  well  with  a  very  low  curb,  into  which 
a  dropped  stone  found  water  fifty  feet  below.  In 
another  room  a  bit  of  candle  disclosed  a  pile  of  black 
earth.  He  picked  up  a  handful,  and  dropped  it  in 
terror  —  it  was  gun-powder !  There  was  enough 
powder  in  the  pile  to  blow  the  whole  vast  palace  to 
atoms. 

Feeling  that  he  had  narrowly  escaped  death  twice, 
and  that  that  was  enough  for  one  night,  he  was  about 
to  give  up  his  adventure,  when  he  heard  voices  beyond 
a  closed  door,  and,  upon  knocking,  it  was  opened,  and 


134      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

he  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  sultana,  who  held  over 
her  head  a  stone  lamp,  and  gazed  long  at  him. 

And  there  in  a  handsome  room  adjacent  to  the 
grand  court  of  the  harem  he  had  tea  with  the  sultana 
and  eight  of  her  attendants.  Zuleika  —  for  she  bore 
that  poetic  name  —  conversed  with  him  for  two  hours 
—  in  signs.  The  Khan  had  fled  when  the  Russians 
entered  the  city.  MacGahan  was  suspected  to  be  an 
agent  sent  out  by  the  English  government,  and  there- 
fore he  was  received  with  kindness  by  these  Orientals. 

As  he  mounted  the  stone  stairs  to  depart,  Zuleika 
kissed  her  hands  to  him  and  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
ness. Next  morning  when  food  was  sent  into  the 
harem  it  was  found  to  be  empty.  The  women  had 
escaped!  That  was  the  end  of  this  romance  of  the  war 
correspondent.  MacGahan  discreetly  forgot  to  report 
the  adventure  to  the  Russian  commander;  Kauffmann 
learned  of  it  a  long  time  after  when  he  read  the  story 
in  the  American's  own  account  of  the  campaign. 

MacGahan  interviewed  everybody  within  reach, 
including  the  Khan,  who  returned  after  a  time  to  the 
city.  He  rode  with  the  foremost  in  the  campaign 
against  the  Turcomans,  the  bravest  and  most  warlike 
race  of  Central  Asia.  He  witnessed  the  signing  of  the 
treaty  between  Kauffmann  and  the  Khan.  Then  he 
voyaged  down  the  Oxus  and  across  the  Sea  of  Aral. 
And  there  he  found  the  correspondent  of  the  London 
Daily  Telegraph,  who  had  been  sent  on  the  same 
mission,  but  who  had  not  been  able  to  penetrate  the 
desert.  On  the  29th  of  September,  MacGahan  was 
back  in  Orenburg. 

One  thing  more,  and  a  very  important  thing,  is 
to  be  chronicled  of  the  campaign  in  Asia.  At  Khiva, 
MacGahan  and  Skobeleff  met  for  the  first  time.     They 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     135 

parted  to  meet  again  in  Paris  and  finally  in  Rou mania 
in  the  great  war  between  Russia  and  Turkey.  They 
were  the  last  two  to  leave  Khiva.  In  the  letters  which 
MacGahan  sent  the  London  Daily  News  during  the 
war,  he  described  his  friend  and  told  the  story  of  one 
of  his  daring  Asian  exploits  as  follows: 

"He  would  attract  attention  anywhere.  He  is  a  tall, 
handsome  man,  with  a  lithe,  slender,  active  figure,  a  clear, 
blue  eye,  and  a  large  prominent,  straight  nose,  the  kind  of 
nose  it  is  said  Napoleon  used  to  look  for  among  his  officers 
when  he  wished  to  find  a  general,  and  face  young  enough  for 
a  second  lieutenant  although  he  is  a  general  —  the  youngest 
in  the  army. 

"When  I  saw  him  last  he  was  Colonel  Skobeleff,  and 
had  just  returned  from  a  remarkable  and  daring  expedition, 
for  which  he  had  received  the  Cross  of  St.  George.  Kauff- 
mann  wished  to  ascertain  whether  Markasoff,  whose  column 
had  been  obliged  to  turn  back  in  the  desert  for  want  of  water, 
would  be  able  to  reach  Khiva  by  a  certain  route.  But  the 
Turcomans  whom  he  had  just  been  fighting  had  all  fled  in 
that  direction. 

"To  have  explored  the  route  with  safety  it  would  have 
been  necessary  to  send  a  large  column,  which  Kauffmann 
did  not  think  the  importance  of  the  matter  justified.  The 
only  alternative  was  for  a  small  party  to  make  the  attempt 
at  the  risk  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  exasperated 
Turcomans.  This  Colonel  Skobeleff  volunteered  to  do. 
He  took  three  friendly  Turcomans  with  him,  disguised  him- 
self in  the  costume  of  a  Turcoman,  and  started  on  his 
perilous  enterprise. 

"He  did  not  return  for  ten  days,  and  everybody  had 
given  him  up  for  lost,  when  he  finally  appeared  at  Khiva  the 
day  before  Kauffmann's  evacuation  of  the  capital.  He  had 
managed  to  elude  the  Turcomans,  and  to  reach  the  point 
where  Markasoff  had  turned  back;  he  explored  the  way, 
measured  the  depth  of  the  wells  and  the  amount  of  water 
they  could  supply,  and  returned  safely,  almost  exhausted 
by  his  long  ride. 

"He  wished,  of  course,  to  write  his  report  immediately. 


136      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

but,  as  the  army  was  moving  next  day,  he  determined  to 
stay  behind  for  that  purpose  in  one  of  the  Khan's  palaces, 
and  he  asked  me  to  keep  him  company,  which  I  very  wiUingly 
undertook  to  do.  We  remained  there  a  day  and  a  night 
after  the  departure  of  the  army,  and  thus  it  came  about 
that  we  were  the  last  two  of  the  invading  expedition  to  look 
upon  the  Khivan  capital. " 

Thus  ended  MacGahan's  work  in  Central  Asia. 
The  story  of  his  desert  ride  has  never  been  forgotten 
in  that  region  nor  in  all  Asia.  Francis  Vinton  Greene 
in  his  writings  has  much  to  say  of  it,  declaring  that 
"the  wonderful  ride  .  .  .  would  never  have  been 
credited,  so  impossible  did  it  seem  for  a  man  to  make 
such  a  journey  alone,  but  for  the  two  incontrovertible 
facts  that  he  disappeared  suddenly  from  a  little  post 
on  the  Yaxartes,  and  reappeared,  as  if  from  heaven, 
four  weeks  later  among  Kauffmann's  men  on  the 
Oxus." 

Three  weeks  after  his  return  from  Khiva,  MacGahan 
was  ordered  to  join  the  American  squadron  at  Nice  and 
proceed  to  Cuba,  where  he  described  for  his  paper  the 
Virginius  complications.  In  March,  1874,  he  was 
back  in  London,  where  he  worked  several  months  on 
his  book  about  his  Asian  experiences.  In  July  he  was 
ordered  to  Spain  to  join  the  expedition  of  Don  Carlos. 

He  was  ten  months  in  the  Pyrenees,  and  hard  and 
dangerous  campaigning  it  was,  the  days  spent  in  the 
saddle  and  the  nights  in  the  open  air.  There  is  a 
peculiar  element  of  peril  in  guerilla  fighting,  and  in 
Spain  in  those  days  almost  every  furze  bush  held  a 
sharpshooter.  The  most  marked  difference  in  the 
general  appearance  of  the  Carlists  and  the  Republicans 
was  the  color  of  their  boinas,  or  large,  muffin-shaped 
caps,  those  of  the  latter  being  red  while  the  former 
wore  blue.     More  than  one  correspondent  wore  onQ 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSroS  MacGAHAN      137 

color  and  kept  the  other  handy  in  his  pocket  for  emer- 
gencies. 

The  American  news  man,  however,  wore  the  Carlist 
color,  and  when  he  was  captured  amid  the  mountains 
and  apprehended  as  a  follower  of  Don  Carlos  be- 
cause of  his  boi^,  he  was  thrown  into  prison  with 
another  corresponident.  They  spent  a  day  and  night 
in  a  cell  swarming  with  vermin,  and  next  morning  were 
told  to  prepare  %or  death.  MacGahan  knew  the 
Republicans  had  never  shown  any  mercy  to  the  Carlists 
and  expected  to  die.  At  sunrise  he  went  out,  as  he 
supposed,  to  face  attiring  squad.  But  once  more  he 
made  a  narrow  esca^. 

Again  an  American  official  had  intervened.  What 
Washburne  had  done  in  Paris  the  American  consul  at 
Bayonne  did  here.  Having  heard  the  rumor  of  the 
arrest  of  the  two  press  men,  he  hastened  to  their  rescue, 
arriving  barely  in  the  nick  of  time. 

The  chief  battle  of  the  campaign  was  the  three 
days'  struggle  for  Estella.  This  little  mountain  town  is 
famous  in  the  history  of  the  Carlist  wars,  and,  says  Sir 
John  Furley,  "presents  a  wonderful  conglomerate  of 
houses  pressed  together  in  narrow  streets,  and  closely 
surrounded  by  perpendicular  rocks  which  prevent  it 
from  being  seen  from  any  side  at  a  distance  of  more 
than  two  hundred  yards. "  There  were  45,000  men  and 
eighty  guns  in  the  assault,  and  16,000  Carlists,  with 
the  advantage  of  position,  defended  the  place.  The 
defenders  were  completely  victorious.  It  was  a 
wonderful  military  spectacle,  and  could  be  witnessed 
from  a  little  plateau  in  every  detail.  The  Carlists 
made  it  almost  as  merry  a  scrimmage  as  a  snowball 
battle.  Women  and  children  with  all  movables  had 
been   hidden   in   the   mountains.     There   were   seven 


138     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

villages  at  one  time  in  flames  on  the  third  day.  The 
Navarrese  charged  down  the  mountains  five  times 
through  cornfields  and  vineyards.  The  Spanish  cavalry 
horses  leaped  about  among  the  rocks  like  goats.  But 
the  Carlist  position  was  worth  thousands  of  men, 
and  they  won  the  battle  of  Abarzuza-Estella. 

After  months  of  this  desultory  and  picturesque 
fighting  MacGahan  was  sent  to  the  frozen  North. 
The  expedition  was  promoted  by  Captain  Allen  Young, 
who  sixteen  years  before  had  begun  his  Arctic  career; 
by  James  Gordon  Bennett,  who  was  represented  by 
MacGahan;  by  Lieutenant  Innes  Lillingston,  R.  N., 
the  second  in  command;  and  by  Lady  Franklin,  who 
insisted  on  sharing  the  expense  of  the  enterprise, 
hoping  tenaciously  for  tidings  from  her  long-lost 
husband. 

The  ship  was  the  barque  Pandora^  and  the  object 
was  to  try  for  the  Northwest  Passage,  as  MacGahan 
stated  it,  "to  pass  round  the  northern  coast  of  America, 
and  come  out  through  Behring's  Straits  into  the 
Pacific  Ocean  —  a  feat  which  has  been  the  dream  of 
navigators  for  centuries,  but  only  a  dream.  It  is  our 
ambition,"  he  added,  "not  only  to  accomplish  the 
undertaking,  but  to  accomplish  it  in  a  single  season." 
As  the  sequel  shows,  the  world  waited  yet  thirty- 
seven  years  ere  Amundsen  conquered  the  difficulties 
of  the  voyage  around  the  northern  extremity  of  the 
American  continent,  and  he  was  three  years  in  making 
the  passage. 

A  lively  and  circumstantial  account  of  his  voyage 
was  written  by  the  correspondent  with  the  title  "Under 
the  Northern  Lights."  He  gave  delightful  glimpses  of 
the  sunny  side  of  life  in  the  Polar  regions.  The  per- 
sonality of  the  author  appears  very  distinctly  in  the 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     139 

work.  It  is  full  of  the  most  kindhearted  humor,  and 
one  is  able  to  form  a  pretty  accurate  idea  of  his  charac- 
ter from  it. 

The  voyage  took  him  through  Davis  Strait  and 
Baffin  Bay,  Lancaster  Sound  and  Barrow  Strait,  into 
Peel  Sound.  The  party  reached  the  farthest  point 
attained  by  Ross  and  McClintock  in  1849  in  their 
search  for  some  traces  of  Sir  John  Franklin's  expedition. 
The  record  left  in  their  cairn  at  this  point  was  taken 
from  the  tin  tube,  in  which  it  had  been  enclosed  for 
twenty-eight  years.     Said  MacGahan: 

**I  think  there  is  nothing  impresses  one  more  forcibly 
with  the  utter  loneliness  of  these  regions  than  the  finding 
of  such  a  document.  A  scrap  of  paper,  placed  here  in  a 
prominent  position  on  purpose  to  be  seen  and  found,  but 
which  has  remained  all  these  years  just  as  it  was  placed  on 
this  heap  of  stones  by  a  hand  long  since  turned  to  dust. 
Captain  Young  opened  the  tube,  which  was  sealed  up  with  red 
lead,  and  found  a  quarter  of  a  sheet  of  blue  foolscap,  bearing 
a  brief  record,  dated  June  7,  1849.  Strange,  indeed,  are 
the  chances  of  Arctic  navigation.  Ross  was  within  two 
hundred  miles  of  the  spot  where  only  a  year  before  the 
crews  of  Franklin's  ships,  the  Erebus  and  Terror,  had  aban- 
doned their  vessels.  These  few  hurried  lines  in  the  cylinder, 
upon  which  with  profound  emotion  we  were  gazing,  written 
in  the  cold  with  benumbed  fingers,  carry  us  back  to  the 
time  when  the  excitement  about  Sir  John  Franklin  was  just 
beginning,  an  excitement  which  moved  the  world  to  enthu- 
siasm and  pity,  and  which  led  to  sending  out  ship  after  ship 
in  search  of  the  lost  expedition,  and  to  the  most  superhuman 
efforts  to  save  it;  all,  alas,  without  avail!" 

Now  the  Pandora's  party  had  to  take  their  turn  in 
enduring  the  perils  of  Arctic  exploration.  They  were 
in  Peel  Strait,  their  way  to  the  west  blocked  by  the 
ice-pack.  The  eastern  entrance  through  which  they 
had  come  might  close  and  cut  off  their  retreat;  there 


140     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

was  no  harbor  in  which  the  ship  could  lie  in  safety. 
They  waited  three  days,  knowing  that  even  an  hour's 
delay  might  mean  a  stay  of  eight  or  nine  months 
through  the  winter  in  a  most  unfavorable  situation. 
Bitterly  disappointed  that  no  way  opened  ahead,  they 
steamed  at  full  speed  on  the  back  track  with  the  ice- 
pack close  at  their  heels.  They  reached  the  outlet 
in  the  last  minute  of  time.  Old  floes  were  being 
welded  together  by  new  ice  rapidly  forming.  The 
iron  beak  of  the  Pandora  tore  its  way  through  the 
final  barrier  and  dashed  into  the  open  waters  of  Barrow 
Strait.     They  were  free. 

The  greatest  service  of  MacGahan's  career  now 
summoned  him  to  Constantinople.  In  London  the 
Eastern  Question  was  the  absorbing  topic  of  the  hour. 
The  sympathies  of  the  American  newspaper  man  with 
the  Slavs  in  their  efforts  to  throw  off  the  Turkish 
yoke  were  deep  and  keen.  Events  of  world  interest 
were  occurring  in  the  Balkan  region.  He  could  not 
bear  the  notion  of  following  their  course  from  Paris 
or  London. 

But  for  some  reason  there  was  disagreement  between 
MacGahan  and  his  employer,  James  Gordon  Bennett. 
The  correspondent  went  to  the  oflSce  of  the  London 
Daily  News,  a  few  doors  away  from  the  New  York 
Herald's  bureau,  told  what  he  knew  of  the  Eastern 
situation,  offered  his  services,  and  was  at  once  "taken 
on."  The  time  was  opportune  and  the  paper's  policy 
congenial.  Lord  Beaconsfield  was  then  in  power  and 
the  leader  of  the  opposition  was  Gladstone.  The 
Daily  News  was  a  through-thick-and-thin  supporter 
of  the  Liberal  party  and  especially  of  the  leader  of 
that    party.    The    Hebrew    and    Oriental  sympathies 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     141 

of  Beaconsfield  were  with  the  Sultan,  for  the  Russians 
had  persecuted  his  race.  Now  by  a  windfall  of  fortune 
came  the  enterprising  MacGahan  to  the  organ  of  the 
Liberal  party.  For  more  than  a  year  the  Balkan 
volcano  had  been  in  full  eruption;  Bosnia  and  Herz- 
govina  had  revolted;  Servia  had  gone  to  war  with 
Turkey.  The  ruling  pashas  were  making  life  intoler- 
able for  the  Bulgarians,  the  most  industrious  and 
progressive  of  the  Christian  populations  of  the  Sultan's 
dominions. 

The  Turkish  government  took  away  all  arms  from 
the  Christians  of  Bulgaria,  and  brought  into  the  prov- 
ince a  large  force  of  Kurds,  Bashi-Bazouks  and  Asiatic 
barbarians.  Satisfied  that  the  cause  of  the  Porte  would 
never  be  deserted  by  England,  the  Bashi-Bazouks 
were  let  loose  on  the  helpless  people  of  southern 
Bulgaria.  Reports  began  to  filter  into  Constantinople 
of  the  wholesale  slaughter  of  men,  women  and  children. 
The  representative  of  the  Daily  News  in  that  city  made 
known  through  the  paper  the  dark  rumors  which  were 
whispered  about  in  the  Turkish  capital.  His  despatch 
made  a  sensation.  The  Turkish  government  denounced 
the  News  man.  The  English  government  declared 
the  reports  lacked  official  confirmation. 

Then  MacGahan  was  sent  to  make  an  independent 
investigation.  He  was  to  get  the  exact  truth  and  tell 
it  without  reserve. 

The  letters  which  he  sent  his  paper  under  dates 
ranging  from  July  28  to  August  16,  1876,  are  among 
the  most  brilliant  ever  penned  by  a  correspondent  on  the 
field,  pre-Raphaelite  in  their  accuracy  of  detail,  so 
powerful  that  they  gave  Russia  the  excuse  the  Czar 
wanted  for  a  declaration  of  war  on  Turkey  in  the  interest 
of  civilization.     The  letters  startled  humanitarianism 


142     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

in  England  into  a  flame,  in  a  few  weeks  wrought  in  the 
English  people  a  sentiment  which  caused  a  complete 
reversal  of  what  had  been  the  traditional  policy  of 
English  statesmen,  and  secured  for  Russia  sympathy 
in  quarters  where  she  had  no  reason  to  expect  it,  doing 
more  than  anything  else  to  precipitate  the  conflict 
that  ended  with  the  partial  dismemberment  of  the 
Sultan's  empire. 

The  little  volume  containing  the  letters  even  after 
forty  years  makes  moving  reading.  MacGahan  went 
step  by  step  over  the  district  from  which  the  tales  of 
horror  had  come.  His  work  was  made  easier  by 
his  knowledge  of  the  Slavonic  languages  and  those  of 
western  Europe.  He  possessed  a  rare  combination  of 
physical  energy,  capacity  for  observation,  quickness 
in  composition,  and  power  of  graphic  expression.  He 
vividly  reproduced  conversations  with  persons  of  all 
ranks.  He  "interviewed"  hundreds  of  the  surviving 
victims  of  Turkish  barbarities.  More  than  fifty 
villages  had  been  burnt,  without  counting  those  which 
had  been  only  pillaged,  and  fully  15,000  persons  had 
been  slaughtered.  He  had  information  from  the 
different  consuls  at  Philippopolis  (a  city  in  which 
England  had  no  agent  at  all),  from  German  railway 
officials,  from  Greeks,  Armenians,  priests,  missionaries, 
and  even  from  Turks  themselves.  Much  of  what  he 
saw  and  learned  it  was  impossible  to  print. 

Everyone  in  England  read  MacGahan's  letters. 
They  were  copied  by  papers  all  over  the  world.  In 
public  meetings  resolutions  of  thanks  to  the  Daily 
News  were  passed,  and  they  were  transmitted  to  the 
writer  of  the  reports.  Later  the  American  consul- 
general,  Eugene  Schuyler,  confirmed  the  statements 
of  the  news  man.     The  British  consul  also  bore  out 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     143 

only  too  fully  the  conclusions  of  the  London  special. 
Gladstone  threw  himself  into  the  agitation  that  fol- 
lowed, and  again  became  Prime  Minister. 

In  Russia  there  was  even  greater  excitement.  War 
was  inevitable,  and  war  was  declared  on  April  29,  1877. 

The  hero  of  the  war  was  Skobeleff,  and  Skobeleff's 
intimate  comrade  through  a  large  part  of  the  campaign 
was  the  correspondent  for  the  Daily  News, 

Orders  came  in  February  for  MacGahan  to  go  to 
St.  Petersburg  and  there  follow  the  preparations  for 
the  Russo-Turkish  conflict.  On  the  beginning  of 
hostilities  MacGahan  went  forward  with  the  Russian 
army  and  most  of  the  time  until  peace  was  declared  he 
was  with  one  division  or  another.  Throughout  the 
war  MacGahan  was  laboring  at  great  physical  dis- 
advantage. At  the  outset  he  had  an  ankle  set  in  a 
plaster  of  Paris  cast,  due  to  a  fall  when  riding  a  wild 
horse.  He  merely  said  he  "never  had  cared  much  for 
walking  and  now  he  would  ride  the  more."  When 
the  time  came  that  he  could  not  even  ride  he  was  still 
able  to  find  ways  to  see  much  that  was  going  on.  While 
with  Gourko  on  the  Balkan  raid  his  horse  slid  over  a 
bank  in  a  narrow  pass  and  fell  on  him,  so  that  the  half- 
set  bone  was  broken  again.  It  was  then  he  was  lifted 
upon  the  gun-carriage,  thus  going  through  the  expedi- 
tion, and,  helpless  himself,  witnessing  several  actions, 
in  one  of  which  he  nearly  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy.  The  driver  of  a  transport  wagon  in  which  the 
correspondent  found  a  refuge  went  too  close  to  the  edge 
of  a  mountain  road  and  the  side  wheels  began  to  slip. 
MacGahan,  expecting  wagon  and  horses  would  go  over 
the  precipice,  rolled  off  his  seat  and  fell  heavily  upon  the 
rocks.  For  a  time  he  was  entirely  disabled  and  had  to 
be  sent  back  to  Tirnova. 


144     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Of  his  fidelity  to  duty  Frank  D.  Millet,  the  corre- 
spondent of  the  New  York  Herald,  said:  "Half  the 
time  at  Plevna  he  was  on  his  back  unable  to  rise. 
During  a  battle  he  would  pull  himself  together  and  face 
the  bullets  and  the  certain  danger  of  exposure  to  the 
weather  with  cheerfulness  and  even  gayety,  for  his 
heart  was  all  in  his  work.  .  .  Crippled  and  subject 
to  bi-weekly  attacks  of  Danube  fever,  he  crossed  the 
Balkans  in  January,  and  kept  at  his  duties  until  his 
last  illness.  .  .  His  whole  nature  was  stirred  by  the 
sufferings  he  had  witnessed,  and  this  was  the  spring 
of  his  energy  which  endured  no  check.  He  recognized 
the  cause  as  worthy  the  sacrifices  of  the  war,  and,  if 
necessary,  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  life.  Well  may  the 
Bulgarians  call  him  their  champion  and  their  prophet 
and  write  poems  and  memorials  of  him." 

Every  person  who  has  written  of  that  war  has 
yielded  to  the  fascination  of  the  personality  of  Skobe- 
leff.  They  have  spared  no  adjectives  in  their  descrip- 
tions of  his  prowess  and  his  generous  dealing  with  his 
men.  The  American  historian,  Greene,  said:  ^*His 
personal  bravery  was  of  the  most  reckless  character.  .  . 
He  always  wore  a  white  coat,  a  white  hat,  and  rode  a 
white  horse  in  battle,  simply  because  other  generals 
usually  avoided  these  target-marks.  He  never  lost 
an  opportunity  of  displaying  courage.  .  .  Yet  all 
this  was  not  mere  bravado  and  nonsense,  but  was  the 
result  of  thought  and  almost  cold-blooded  calculation. 
It  was  intended  to  impress  his  men  and  it  did  so.  They 
firmly  beheved  he  could  not  be  hit. "  It  speaks  loudly 
for  the  character  of  the  American  reporter,  therefore, 
that  he  was  the  intimate  of  such  a  man,  and  that  the 
Russian  was  not  ashamed  of  his  tears  when  he  stood 
at  the  grave  of  his  friend. 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     145 

Just  how  practically  useful  Skobeleff's  friendship 
was  on  two  or  three  occasions  is  indicated  by  the 
incident  related  years  ago  in  the  columns  of  a  German 
periodical  by  one  who  knew  them  both  well.  The 
writer  was  in  a  boat  crossing  the  Danube  when  he 
espied  the  newspaper  man  coming  down  the  hill  and 
making  signs  that  he  also  wished  to  cross  to  Simnitza. 
The  boat  was  stopped  and  in  jumped  MacGahan.  In 
his  hands  he  held  a  roll  which  seemed  to  give  him  much 
pleasure.  Almost  like  a  child  eager  to  tell  his  secret 
he  opened  the  papers.  They  were  nothing  less  than 
Skobeleff's  confidential  report  loaned  to  the  reporter 
for  a  night  while  a  telegram  arrived  at  the  imperial 
headquarters  explaining  a  few  hours'  delay.  Thus  it 
happened  that  the  readers  of  the  Daily  News  had 
oflficial  particulars  of  the  famous  crossing  of  the  Danube 
on  June  27,  1877,  before  the  Russian  Emperor  or  any 
Russian  newspaper  had  a  word  on  the  subject.  It 
made  an  immense  sensation  throughout  Russia  that  an 
English  paper  thus  cornered  the  greatest  item  of  news 
at  the  opening  of  the  war. 

The  deduction  then  is  that  if  the  correspondent 
would  shine  as  a  getter  and  transmitter  of  exclusives 
his  policy  should  be  to  cultivate  the  friendship  of  the 
generals  and  then  take  what  they  confide?  No; 
while  there  have  been  a  number  of  instances  of  the 
communication  of  most  valuable  "  tips, "  as  in  the  career 
of  Russell  through  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  the  corre- 
spondent has  to  rely  in  almost  every  case  upon  his  own 
instinct  and  his  ability  to  read  the  signs  of  the  hour. 
It  was  so  with  MacGahan,  too,  although  SkobelefF 
wanted  to  bestow  favors  upon  his  messmate  whenever 
opportunity  offered. 

At  the  outset  of  the  campaign  MacGahan  bought 


146     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

his  outfit  in  Bucharest.  Archibald  Forbes  told  how 
he  purchased  saddle-horses  and  a  wagon  and  team, 
and  how  he  stored  the  vehicle  with  supplies  and 
engaged  a  trusty  coachman.  "With  these,"  said 
Forbes,  "he  duly  traveled  down  the  Danube,  left  them 
behind  when  he  crossed  the  great  river,  and  never  once 
saw  the  vehicle  until  after  the  fall  of  Plevna,  six  months 
later,  when  he  kept  it  for  two  days,  and  then  lost  it 
for  good.  His  wretched  coachman  was  a  standing 
joke  among  the  correspondents;  a  forlorn  Wandering 
Jew,  ever  in  vain  search  after  his  meteoric  master.  At 
all  sorts  of  unlikely  places  poor  Isaac  would  turn  up, 
following  some  phantom  trail,  with  the  melancholy, 
stereotyped  question,  'Have  you  seen  my  master.^^' 
followed  by  a  request  for  a  little  money  to  keep  him 
and  the  horse  alive.  For  aught  I  know, "  added  the 
English  writer,  "Isaac  and  the  wagon  may  be  haunting 
Bulgaria  to  this  very  day. " 

MacGahan  never  hesitated  to  take  his  chances  with- 
out any  consideration  of  personal  comfort  or  safety. 
He  had  the  clothes  in  which  he  stood  and  a  clean  shirt 
in  his  saddle-bags  by  way  of  baggage.  But  his  fellows 
said  he  had  the  faculty  of  avoiding  the  travel-stained 
and  dingy  look  of  most  of  them,  however  complete 
their  outfits.  And  MacGahan  never  bothered  to 
make  any  definite  arrangements  for  a  personal  comis- 
sary  department.  In  this  respect,  too,  he  took  his 
chances.  Rarely  had  he  a  meal  ahead  from  his  own 
resources.  He  was  sure  of  food,  however,  though  not 
of  a  very  attractive  meal  according  to  fastidious  stand- 
ards, whenever  he  came  upon  a  Bulgarian  hut  or  a 
group  of  Russian  soldiers. 

How  the  imperturbable  special  would  sing  his 
way  through  the  dreariest  day  was  related  by  Frederick 


JANUARroS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN      147 

Boyle.  For  some  time  there  were  four  of  the  corre- 
spondents resident  in  what  Boyle  called  "the  kraal." 
When  they  awoke  at  dawn  they  would  hear  "the  cheer- 
ful song"  of  MacGahan  and  the  song  would  also 
"chase  them  to  their  beds  at  night."  At  daylight 
there  would  be  MacGahan  rolled  in  his  rugs  upon  the 
hay  merrily  trolling  his  lays.  He  would  sip  his  break- 
fast tea  between  stanzas.  He  would  puff  his  cigar- 
ettes alternately  with  his  tunes.  Through  the  day  the 
songs  would  hardly  ever  cease.  Said  Boyle:  "Solo- 
mon's ditties  were  a  thousand  and  five  but  no  man 
hath  numbered  MacGahan 's."  And  when,  splashed 
to  the  neck  with  mud,  they  would  canter  in  from  their 
rides  and  find  Skobeleff  waiting  to  share  their  meal, 
the  Russian  general  would  declare  with  comic  rage  that 
"MacGahan  had  learned  nothing  since  they  rode 
together  through  the  Khivan  desert  except  some  new 
bits  of  song  more  abominably  stupid  than  the  old 
assortment. " 

At  daybreak  on  the  morning  of  Sept.  1,  1877, 
Lieutenant  F.  V.  Greene,  then  the  military  attache 
to  the  United  States  legation  at  St.  Petersburg,  and 
several  other  foreign  officers,  were  waking  from  a  few 
hours  of  sleep  after  a  long  ride  toward  Plevna,  where 
a  great  battle  was  expected,  when  a  man  riding  a 
rough  shaggy  pony,  wrapped  in  a  great  ulster  and 
wearing  upon  his  arm  the  correspondent's  badge,  came 
ambling  along  the  road.  It  was  MacGahan,  who  had 
passed  the  entire  preceding  day  watching  the  desperate 
sortie  of  Osman  Pasha.  He  had  spent  the  early  part 
of  the  night  writing  his  despatches  and  had  started  at 
two  in  the  morning  to  carry  them  over  the  forty-five 
miles  to  the  Danube,  where  the  courier  was  waiting  to 
take  them  to  Bucharest,  the  nearest  point  where  a  wire 


148      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

could  be  found  available  for  business.  The  corre- 
spondent gave  the  military  man  a  hurried  and  vivid 
account  of  the  fighting  and  was  off  again. 

Before  me  is  the  despatch  which  was  read  next 
morning  by  everyone  in  London  and  New  York,  a 
despatch  beginning  "another  battle  of  Plevna  has  been 
fought  .  .  .  one  of  the  hardest-fought  combats  of  the 
war."  This  despatch,  like  all  his  Balkan  reports, 
reads  well.  Greene  states  no  more  than  the  truth 
when  he  says:  "Considering  the  haste  with  which 
that  large  portion  of  the  two  volumes  of  the  'War 
Correspondence  of  the  Daily  News'  which  came  from 
his  pen  was  necessarily  written,  there  is  remarkably 
little  in  it  which  even  at  this  day  needs  correction." 

One  of  the  most  impressive  illustrations  of  the 
power  of  the  swiftly-written  record  of  MacGahan's 
observations  is  found  in  the  long  letter  in  which  he  told 
what  he  saw  on  the  September  day  when  Skobeleff, 
refused  re-enforcements,  was  obliged  to  retreat  from  the 
double  redoubt  which  he  had  captured  the  day  before. 
Two  or  three  passages  may  be  quoted : 

"It  has  been  said  that  nobody  ever  saw  a  battle.  The 
soldier  is  too  much  excited  with  the  passions  of  the  fight  as 
well  as  enveloped  in  smoke  to  see  far  around  him.  The 
general  is  too  far  away  from  the  actual  conflict,  too  much 
busied  with  the  news  from  different  parts  of  the  field  and 
with  giving  orders,  to  see  the  battle,  although  he  knows  it 
better  than  any  one  else.  It  is  only  the  correspondent  who 
is  daring  enough  to  take  and  hold  a  good  position  who 
really  sees  a  battle;  but  today,  owing  to  the  dense  fog,  no 
correspondent  can  say  he  saw  more  than  an  occasional  scene 
or  episode  in  this  terrific  struggle. 

"A  little  to  my  right,  where  General  Kriloff  attacked 
the  redoubts  near  Plevna,  invisible  from  the  point  where  my 
colleague  took  his  stand,  the  fire  had  been  raging  with  fury 
for  nearly  two  hours,  a  steady,  continuous  roll  and  crash. 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSroS  MacGAHAN     149 

intermingled  with  the  louder  thunder  of  cannon,  which 
filled  the  air  with  the  uproar  of  bullets  and  shells.  During 
all  this  time  there  was  Uttle  to  be  seen  along  the  crest  of  the 
Radisovo  ridge,  where  the  Russian  guns  could  be  perceived 
at  work,  with  figures  flitting  round  them  dimly  seen  through 
the  smoke,  strangely  magnified  by  the  intervention  of  the 
fog,  until  the  gunners  appeared  like  giants,  and  the  guns 
themselves,  enlarged  and  distorted  by  the  same  medium, 
appeared  like  huge  uncouth  monsters,  from  whose  throats 
at  every  instant  leaped  forth  globes  of  flame.  There  were 
moments  when  these  flashes  seemed  to  light  up  everything 
around  them.  Then  the  guns  and  gunners  appeared  for 
an  instant  with  fearful  distinctness,  red  and  lurid,  as  though 
tinged  with  blood.  Then  they  sank  back  again  in  shadowy 
indistinctness.  The  uproar  of  the  battle  rose  and  swelled 
until  it  became  fearful  to  hear  —  like  the  continuous  roar 
of  an  angry  sea  beating  against  a  rock-bound  coast,  combined 
with  that  of  a  thunder-storm,  with  the  strange  unearthly 
noises  heard  on  board  a  ship  when  laboring  in  a  gale.  .  .  . 
"Into  this  storm  of  bullets  plunged  the  Russians,  with 
a  shout  as  though  of  joy,  and  then  disappeared  into  a  little 
hollow,  and  for  the  moment  were  lost  to  view.  Then  they 
emerged  again,  disappeared  in  the  low  ground  at  the  foot 
of  the  glacis,  rushing  onward  as  though  the  bullets  were  but 
paper  pellets;  but,  alas !  sadly  diminished  in  number.  Would 
it  be  possible  for  them  to  reach  the  parapet?  Was  it  possible 
for  flesh  and  blood  to  break  that  circle  of  fire?  To  me  it 
seemed  utterly  out  of  the  question.  Did  but  one  bullet  in 
ten  find  its  billet,  not  one  of  those  gallant  fellows  would 
return  from  that  cornfield.  While  waiting  to  see  them 
emerge  from  that  little  hollow,  my  excitement  was  so  great, 
my  hand  trembled  so,  that  I  could  not  hold  my  field-glass 
to  my  eyes,  and  for  the  moment  was  obliged  to  trust  my 
naked  vision.  They  were  evidently  very  near  the  redoubt. 
Victory  was  almost  within  their  grasp,  but  they  required  a 
fresh  accession  of  strength;  a  rush  of  new  men  from  behind; 
another  wave  coming  forward  with  new  impetus  to  carry 
the  first  up  over  the  glacis;  a  second  wave,  and  perhaps  a 
third,  each  bringing  new  impulsion,  new  strength.  I  looked 
for  this  wave  of  reserves.     I  looked  to  see  if  reinforcements 


150      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

were  coming  up  —  if  the  General  was  doing  anything  to 
help  the  gallant  fellows  struggling  there  against  that  circle 
of  fire.  ... 

"  Skobeleff  had  now  only  two  battalions  of  sharpshooters 
left,  the  best  in  his  detachments.  Putting  himself  at  the 
head  of  these  he  dashed^  forward  on  horseback.  He  picked 
up  the  stragglers;  he  reached  the  wavering,  fluctuating  mass, 
and  gave  it  the  inspiration  of  his  own  courage  and  instruc- 
tion. He  picked  the  whole  mass  up  and  carried  it  forward 
with  a  rush  and  cheer.  The  whole  redoubt  was  a  mass  of 
flame  and  smoke,  through  which  screams,  shouts,  and  cries 
of  agony  and  defiance  arose,  with  the  deep-mouthed  bellow- 
ing of  the  cannon,  and  above  all  the  steady,  awful  crash 
of  that  deadly  rifle-fire.  Skobeleff's  sword  was  cut  in 
two  in  the  middle.  Then  a  moment  later,  when  just  on  the 
point  of  leaping  the  ditch,  horse  and  man  rolled  together  to 
the  ground,  the  horse  dead  or  wounded,  the  rider  untouched. 
Skobeleff  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  shout,  then  with  a  formid- 
able, savage  yell  the  whole  mass  of  men  streamed  over  the 
ditch,  over  the  scarp  and  counter-scarp,  over  the  parapet, 
and  swept  into  the  redoubt  like  a  hurricane.  Their  bayonets 
made  short  work  of  the  Turks  still  remaining.  Then  a 
joyous  cheer  told  that  the  redoubt  was  captured,  and  that 
at  last  one  of  the  defences  of  Plevna  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
Russians.  ..." 

But  that  was  not  the  end.  The  end  came  when 
the  troops,  re-enforcements  having  failed  to  reach  them, 
exhausted  by  forty-eight  hours  of  incessant  fighting, 
were  driven  out  of  the  redoubt.  This  final  passage  Mac- 
Gahan  then  wrote,  a  passage  which  has  been  cited  from 
time  to  time  for  its  description  of  Skobeleff: 

"It  was  just  after  this  that  I  met  General  Skobeleff 
for  the  first  time  that  day.  He  was  in  a  fearful  state  of 
excitement  and  fury.  His  uniform  was  covered  with  mud 
and  filth;  his  sword  broken;  his  Cross  of  St.  George  twisted 
round  on  his  shoulder;  his  face  black  with  powder  and 
smoke;  his  eyes  haggard  and  blood-shot,  and  his  voice 
quite  gone.    He  spoke  in  a  hoarse  whisper.     I  never  saw 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     151 

such  a  picture  of  battle  as  he  presented.  I  saw  him  again 
in  his  tent  at  night.  He  was  quite  calm  and  collected.  He 
said: 

"  *I  have  done  my  best;  I  could  do  no  more.  My 
detachment  is  half  destroyed;  my  regiments  do  not  exist; 
I  have  no  officers  left;  they  sent  me  no  reinforcements,  and 
I  have  lost  three  guns.' 

"  *Why  did  they  refuse  you  reinforcements?*  I  asked. 
*Who  was  to  blame?' 

"  *I  blame  nobody,  it  is  the  will  of  God,'  he  replied." 

This  is  the  passage  which  Archibald  Forbes  called 
the  "most  vividly  lurid  picture  of  battle"  which  he  had 
found  anywhere.  And  Forbes  noted  that  in  the  copy 
as  originally  penned  MacGahan  had  said,  what  was 
quite  true,  that  Skobeleff's  tongue  was  hanging  out  of 
his  mouth,  but  that  in  revising  rapidly  he  crossed  that 
statement  out,  his  quick  perceptions  telling  him  that 
that  phrase  would  make  the  passage  ridiculous  and 
ruin  its  effect. 

Frank  D.  Millet  told  of  the  interview  in  the  Gen- 
eral's tent  and  of  the  events  that  followed.  He  says 
that  MacGahan  knew  the  impossibility  of  finding  his 
way  to  the  Danube  in  the  dense  fog  and  that  he  tarried 
therefore  to  write  his  story  of  the  battle  during  the 
night.  Next  morning  the  correspondent  was  off  for  the 
wire.  He  started  for  Poradin  and  Simnitza  alone, 
riding  a  little  Turkish  horse  that  would  follow  him 
about  like  a  pet  lamb.  Thirty  miles  or  more  brought 
him  to  the  river.  It  was  customary  when  about  to 
cross  the  bridge  for  correspondents  to  greet  the  com- 
mandant and  formally  ask  permission  to  go  over. 
Leaving  his  horse  which  bore  his  saddle-bag  and  his 
little  personal  luggage  and  the  long  letter  for  the 
London  paper,  and  trusting  the  training  of  the  animal 
to  stay  in  the  road,   MacGahan  walked   up  to  the 


152     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

commandant's  hut.  Of  course  the  last  news  from 
Plevna  was  wanted  and  the  reporter  had  to  take  about 
five  minutes  to  tell  the  story  of  the  great  battle.  When 
he  emerged  from  the  hut  his  horse  was  gone! 

And  with  the  horse  had  gone  his  despatches.  Some 
wretched  Bulgarian  had  stolen  them.  The  corre- 
spondent never  saw  them  again.  He  smiled  somewhat 
mournfully,  and  started,  lame  as  he  still  was,  to  cross 
the  long  bridge,  knowing  that  he  had  no  time  to  look 
for  his  horse  if  he  wished  to  get  his  news  to  London 
that  night.  When  he  reached  Bucharest  he  sat  down 
at  the  end  of  the  telegraph  wire  and  wrote  again  his 
story,  and  it  was  this  rewritten  account  that  appeared 
in  the  daily,  and  from  which  the  citations  above  are 
taken. 

Those  days  of  exposure  broke  Archibald  Forbes 
down  and  he  was  invalided  home.  He  reached  Bucha- 
rest on  his  way  just  in  time  to  arrange  the  sheets  and 
put  on  the  wire  the  despatches  in  which  his  confrere 
recounted  the  final  attempt  of  Osman  to  break  out  of 
Plevna,  and  the  surrender  which  followed  upon  its 
frustration.  Written  with  great  speed  were  the  copious 
narratives  which  went  over  the  wires  to  London, 
telling  of  the  Russian  preparations  for  the  expected 
sortie,  of  the  heavy  fall  of  snow  through  which  glimpses 
of  Plevna  were  caught,  and  of  the  coming  of  the  de- 
cisive moment  with  "the  grey  light  of  the  morning." 
MacGahan  described  the  cannonade,  and  the  fighting 
"hand  to  hand,  man  to  man,  bayonet  to  bayonet." 
Then  he  spoke  of  the  silence,  of  the  lifting  of  the 
smoke  that  followed  the  cessation  of  the  crash  of  the 
infantry  and  the*  bellowing  of  the  artillery. 

And  then  "a  white  flag  was  seen  waving  from  the 
road   leading    around   the   cliffs    beyond   the   bridge. 


JANUARIUS  ALOYSIUS  MacGAHAN     153 

Plevna  had  fallen.  Osman  Pasha  was  going  to  sur- 
render." 

After  the  fall  of  the  town  MacGahan  was  delayed 
so  long  at  Bucharest  by  the  aggravating  nature  of 
his  injury,  which  had  resulted  in  stiffening  the  knee- 
joint,  that  he  was  unable  to  overtake  the  rapidly 
advancing  columns  before  they  reached  Adrianople. 
He  came  on  with  the  advance  guard,  however,  which 
arrived  at  Constantinople  in  February. 

His  friend,  Lieutenant  Greene,  whom  he  nursed 
through  a  severe  illness,  thus  speaks  of  his  death: 
"It  was  sudden,  although  mainly  due  to  overwork 
during  a  long  period.  He  came  in  from  camp  to 
Constantinople  to  nurse  me  when  I  was  ill  of  typhoid 
fever.  Two  days  later  he  fell  ill  himself,  the  disease 
taking  the  form  of  typhus  with  spots.  It  attacked  his 
brain,  which  was  the  most  vulnerable  part  of  him  by 
reason  of  long  protracted  mental  strain,  and  he  died  in 
convulsions  at  the  end  of  a  week. " 

The  burial  service  took  place  on  the  11th  of  June, 
1878,  in  a  little  Greek  cemetery  on  a  hillside  at  Pera. 
The  pallbearers  were  his  brother  correspondents  and 
the  coflSn  was  followed  by  representatives  from  all 
the  embassies.  The  United  States  minister  was  pres- 
ent, officers  of  the  American  ship  Despatch,  then  in  the 
harbor,  and  a  large  number  of  Russian  officers.  In  the 
Czar's  capital  and  other  cities  throughout  the  Empire 
masses  were  said  for  his  soul.  When  the  actual  inter- 
ment took  place  very  early  next  morning  "Dobson  of 
the  London  Times,"  says  Frederic  Villiers,  "Pearse 
of  the  Daily  News,  and  myself  were  present.  Skobeleff 
was  broken  down  and  sobbed  like  a  child.  We  had 
some  difficulty  in  getting  him  away  from  the  grave." 

Five  years  after,  the  Powhatan,  with  flag  at  half 


154     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

mast,  brought  the  leaden  casket  into  New  York  har- 
bor. The  body  lay  in  state  in  the  City  Hall  and  then 
was  borne  to  Ohio.  The  funeral  at  New  Lexington  on 
September  11,  1884,  was  attended  by  many  thousands 
of  persons.  The  grave  is  on  a  hill  with  a  far  view  of  the 
surrounding  country.  On  Independence  Day,  1911, 
a  monument  was  unveiled  by  MacGahan's  only  son, 
Paul,  whose  mother  was  a  Russian  lady  whom  he  first 
met  at  Yalta. 

The  paragraph  in  which  Lieutenant  Greene  esti- 
mated the  character  of  the  correspondent  a  short 
time  after  his  death  needs  no  revision  in  the  light  of 
subsequent  studies  of  his  career.     He  said: 

"No  man  of  his  age  in  recent  years  has  done  more 
to  bring  honor  on  the  name  of  America  throughout 
the  length  and  breadth  of  Europe  and  far  into  Asia; 
no  man  has  more  faithfully  served  the  English-speak- 
ing races  by  telling  them  the  truth  about  great  events 
in  attractive  form  in  their  daily  papers.  .  .  .  The 
secret  of  his  popularity  [with  the  Russian  army] 
lay  in  the  simple  fact  that  he  applied  the  plain  rules 
of  ordinary  morals  and  business  honesty  to  his  calling 
as  a  correspondent.  No  one  has  criticized  more 
freely  than  he  the  mistakes  of  campaigns  or  the  faults 
of  individual  men,  but  he  never  did  so  with  malice. 
Not  one  of  his  criticisms  ever  gave  offence,  but  I  have 
heard  the  justice  of  some  of  the  most  severe  of  them 
freely  acknowledged  by  the  Russians  themselves." 
And  he  added:  "I  suppose  that  he  and  Skobeleff 
stood  at  the  head  of  their  respective  professions." 


CHAPTER  V 
FREDERIC  VILLIERS 

"The  most  conscientious  worker  I  have  met  during  the  nine  years  of 

my  life  passed  as  a  war  correspondent."  ,  _     , 

— James  Creelman. 

Frederic  ViLLiERS,the  pictorial  journalist, is  equally 
facile  with  the  pen  and  the  pencil.  He  usually  refers 
to  himself  as  one  of  the  world's  most  vagrant  artists, 
and  upon  his  pictures  his  fame  is  founded,  but  he  has 
written  many  pages  of  "  good  stuff,"  although  he  is 
not  a  war  correspondent  in  the  sense  in  which  the 
name  is  applied  to  men  of  the  type  of  Forbes  and 
Burleigh. 

Wherever  he  appears  he  is  bound  to  excite  curiosity 
and  command  attention.  With  an  army  in  the  field 
he  will  keep  industriously  at  work  making  sketches, 
but  the  close  observer  might  alone  detect  his  occupa- 
tion, for  his  methods  are  quite  his  own.  Much  of 
the  time  he  makes  his  drawings  in  tiny  sketch  books, 
so  small  that  he  may  hold  them  in  the  palm  of  his 
hand.  Thus  he  files  away  multitudes  of  what  the 
reporters  call  "notes,"  and  he  uses  them  for  precisely 
the  same  purpose  for  which  the  news  writers  use  theirs. 
If  he  comes  absolutely  under  fire  he  may  produce 
a  somewhat  larger  sketch  book  and  make  drawings 
on  a  bigger  scale,  working  in,  quite  likely,  many  of  the 
ideas  in  the  diminutive  pad.  His  chief  purpose  is 
to  get  a  pictorial  record  of  the  stir  and  excitement  of 
battle.  His  work  is  done  with  great  rapidity.  His  eye 
is  quick  and  keen,  and  his  pencil  almost  keeps  pace 


156      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

with  it.  He  differs  with  the  artists  who  believe  in 
elaborating  their  impressions  after  the  conflict  is  over. 
Most  of  his  pictures  are  made  on  the  actual  scene.  He 
prefers  even  a  hasty  and  imperfect  sketch  if  it  conveys 
the  impression  of  reality  and  action. 

No  one  knows  just  how  many  miles  he  has  covered 
in  his  peregrinations  about  the  globe.  But  in  one 
decade  of  a  professional  life  which  began  almost  forty 
years  ago  he  covered  80,000  miles.  He  has  seen 
more  battles  than  any  soldier  living  and  endured  more 
privations.  His  toughest  scrimmage,  probably,  was 
in  the  broken  square  at  Tamai  in  1884.  Many  govern- 
ments have  bestowed  decorations  upon  him,  but  he  has 
an  equal  degree  of  pride  in  the  fact  that  he  introduced 
the  bicycle  into  the  Soudan  and  that  he  was  the  first 
to  use  the  cinematograph  in  making  records  of  cam- 
paigns. There  is  much  of  Villiers  to  be  found  in  the 
characterizations  which  Kipling  put  into  "The Light 
that  Failed,"  and  Sir  Forbes  Robertson  came  to  him 
when  that  novel  was  staged  to  have  the  aid  of  the 
experience  of  the  veteran  in  arranging  the  correspond- 
ents' scene.  As  an  indefatigable  traveler,  with  eyes 
always  quick  to  note  the  peculiarities  of  men  and  races, 
Villiers  has  been  used  extensively  for  pictorial  reporting 
of  important  events  of  every  kind.  But  essentially 
he  is  a  war  correspondent,  and  if  you  can  tell  just  where 
the  war  drum  will  throb  next  you  will  know  just 
where  you  will  be  likely  to  find  Villiers  whistling 
cheerfully  at  his  chosen  work. 

Frederic  Villiers  was  born  in  London  in  1852,  and 
educated  in  France.  As  a  lad  he  used  to  color  his 
Italian  skies  a  deep  blue  and  put  brilliant  scarlet  on 
the  jacket  of  the  Red  Rover   of  the  play.     When 


Copyright  by  Elliott  &  Fry,  Ltd.,  London,  W, 
FREDERIC   VILLIERS 


FREDERIC   VILLIERS  157 

convalescing  from  measles  he  would  draw  regiments  of 
soldiers  with  fixed  bayonets  on  his  school  slate,  and 
his  physician  predicted  for  him  a  military  career. 
At  seventeen  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  in  for  art  in 
earnest,  and  he  began  by  growing  long  hair  and  culti- 
vating a  mustache.  His  industry  secured  for  him 
admission  to  the  schools  of  the  Royal  Academy.  He 
over-worked  and  under-ate  in  his  enthusiasm  for  study. 
The  result  was  chronic  dyspepsia  and  dyspepsia  made 
him  a  war  artist. 

He  was  so  depressed  that  life  seemed  a  burden. 
His  labors  were  not  productive  of  cash.  Then  one 
day  he  saw  a  man  mending  a  telegraph  wire  on  a  pole, 
topping  the  roof  of  a  house.  He  made  notes,  hurried 
home,  induced  an  accommodating  cousin  to  balance 
himself  on  one  of  the  four  posts  of  a  bedstead,  with 
arms  hanging  down  one  side  and  legs  the  other.  With 
the  resulting  sketch  he  went  to  the  editors  of  the 
Graphic.  It  was  not  accepted.  But  the  story  had  a 
sequel. 

One  afternoon  he  saw  a  crowd  around  a  news- 
paper poster.  The  large  black  type  said  that  Prince 
Milan  of  Servia  had  declared  war  against  Turkey. 
Villiers  was  in  gloomy  spirits,  induced  by  his  dyspepsia. 
Why  not  go  to  the  fighting  and  get  killed  and  have  it 
done  with?  Why  not,  indeed?  In  racy  style  he  has 
himself  told  the  tale. 

"I  rushed  back,"  he  says,  "and  immediately  addressed 
a  letter  to  the  editor  of  the  Weekly  Graphicy  offering  my 
services  for  the  coming  campaign.  Early  next  morning 
I  received  a  telegram:  *See  me  private  address.  Thomas.' 
I  jumped  into  a  hansom  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  ringing 
loudly  at  the  famous  editor's  door.  As  I  entered  his  study 
Mr.  Thomas  at  once  came  to  business. 

"  *Can  you  speak  French  or  German?'  he  asked. 


158     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

"  *I  can  get  along  fairly  well  in  French,'  I  replied. 

"  *That  will  do;  when  can  you  go?' 

"  *At  once,'  I  answered. 

"  *Then  please  leave  by  this  evening's  mail.  You 
will  find  money  for  your  journey  and  outfit  at  the  oflfice.' 

"A  short  interview  but  a  very  sweet  one  to  me.  That 
night  I  left  Charing  Cross  station  by  the  Continental  Express 
for  the  seat  of  war.  With  a  pocket  full  of  money,  a  brand 
new  kit,  and  the  world  before  me,  I  thought,  now  I  will 
do  great  things. " 

The  young  artist  left  London  with  two  letters  of 
introduction,  addressed  respectively  to  the  English 
ambassador  at  Vienna  and  to  Archibald  Forbes. 
In  the  Austrian  capital  the  diplomat  provided  him  in 
turn  with  a  letter  to  the  English  consul  at  the  capital 
of  Servia  and  sent  him  by  steamer  down  the  Danube. 
Servians  were  hurrying  from  every  part  of  Europe  to  the 
aid  of  the  fatherland.  When  the  walls  of  Belgrade 
loomed  out  of  the  river  mists  the  excitement  aboard 
the  boat  was  intense.  Says  Villiers:  "Even  as  we 
landed  the  clang  of  war  reverberated  through  the  old 
streets.  The  ringing  noise  of  the  smith's  hammer,  the 
rolling  of  gun  timbers  over  the  rough  stones,  the 
tramp,  tramp  of  the  troops,  the  clanking  and  clatter 
of  the  orderlies  as  they  hurried  hither  and  thither, 
were  heard  on  all  sides." 

Villiers  hurried  away  on  the  trail  of  Forbes,  who 
was  at  the  headquarters  of  the  army  at  Paratun.  He 
was  provided  with  riding  boots,  spurs  and  a  big  bulldog 
revolver,  as  he  says,  to  stamp  himself  in  the  eyes  of  the 
veteran  as  a  very  determined  young  fellow.  Amid  the 
motley  crowd  in  the  market  place  of  Paratun  he  had  no 
trouble  in  finding  the  Daily  News  man;  they  very  soon 
became  fast  friends  and  agreed  to  make  the  campaign 
together  if  possible.     But   at  the  outset  they   were 


FREDERIC   VILLIERS  159 

separated,  Villiers  to  go  with  the  army  of  the  Ibar  and 
Forbes  with  that  of  the  river  Timok.  The  eye  for 
color  and  picturesque  detail  which  Villiers  possesses 
is  shown  by  his  records  of  this  early  campaign.  He 
says: 

"I  had  to  journey  in  springless  country  carts  for  three 
days  through  a  land  sunny  with  ripening  Indian  corn, 
studded  with  picturesque  villages.  The  porticos  of  the 
cottages  were  strung  with  pepper  pods  of  variegated  hues, 
and  melons  and  gourds  of  quaint  shapes.  The  men,  with 
red  skull-caps,  white  frocks  bound  round  the  waist  with  red 
sashes,  were  well-built  and  athletic  and  toiled  in  the  fields. 
Their  womenkind,  sitting  spinning  on  the  verandas  of  their 
houses,  were  dressed  in  pretty  national  costumes  —  white 
gowns  embroidered  at  the  breast;  from  the  waist  aprons  of 
various  colors  were  worn.  .  .  But  there  was  the  shadow 
to  all  this  sunshine.  The  men  looked  stern  and  the  women 
were  sad.  For  far  away  over  the  smiling  fields  and  happy 
homesteads  a  long  wave  of  dust  was  incessantly  rolling,  which 
betokened  the  highway  to  death.  The  first  shots  had  been 
exchanged  on  the  frontier  and  the  bloody  war  had  begun.  .  . 
On  arriving  at  the  town  of  Ivanitza  I  turned  out  of  my 
wagon,  hired  a  saddle  horse,  and  journeyed  up  the  mountain 
to  the  Servian  camp,  pitched  4000  feet  above  the  town." 

This  war,  by  the  way,  cured  his  dyspepsia.  His 
first  efforts  were  those  of  a  gloomy  man  who  intended 
to  get  himself  shot,  and  his  "desperate  endeavors" 
in  that  direction  built  up  for  him  a  "  bogus  reputation 
for  bravery."  After  some  weeks  he  found  himself 
strong  and  of  good  cheer.  He  has  not  suffered  from 
dyspepsia  since. 

His  first  battle  was  a  revelation  in  more  ways  than 
one.  He  knew  only  about  a  dozen  words  of  Servian. 
Of  the  disposition  of  the  troops  in  action  he  was 
even  more  ignorant  than  of  the  language.  He  was  on 
foot,  having  been  obliged  to  return  his  horse  to  Ivan- 


160     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

itza.  A  few  shots  like  the  letting  off  of  fire-crackers 
were  heard  at  a  distance.  On  the  edge  of  a  pine  wood 
on  top  of  the  mountain  he  found  a  Servian  battery 
behind  an  earthwork  and  began  to  make  a  sketch  of 
it.  He  could  not  see  that  they  were  firing  at  anything 
in  particular,  for  the  morning  was  heavy  and  the  smoke 
long  in  lifting.  Soon  he  himself  was  under  fire.  "Pres- 
ently the  air  was  filled  with  a  curious  rushing  sound 
like  that  of  a  low-toned  fog-horn,  followed  by  a  terrible 
explosion  and  a  flash  of  fire,"  he  wrote.  "Then  the 
top  of  one  of  the  pine  trees  flew  in  splinters.  The 
noise  from  that  mutilated  tree  was  as  if  a  huge  tuning 
fork  had  been  struck.  The  vibration  made  the  ground 
tremble.     It  was  one  of  the  enemy's  shells. " 

For  some  time  the  shells  continued  to  splinter  the 
pines.  The  Servians  limbered  up  and  retired,  going 
slowly,  then  at  a  trot,  and  finally  galloping  furiously 
down  the  road.  Villiers  was  mystified.  He  stared  in 
astonishment,  until  suddenly  there  came  through  the 
fog  of  smoke  a  rush  of  infantry,  making  for  the  pass 
through  the  wood  down  which  the  battery  was  going. 
As  they  poured  into  the  road  they  were  packed  to- 
gether rather  closely  and  a  shell  burst  amid  them. 
The  young  artist  then  had  a  glimpse  of  the  stern 
realities  of  war.  Before  the  report  of  the  exploded 
shell  had  passed  away  "half  a  dozen  poor  fellows  lay 
writhing,  almost  torn  to  fragments  with  the  splintered 
segments,  drenching  the  turf  with  blood." 

He  grew  faint  at  the  sight  and  stared  fascinated. 
But  not  for  long.  All  about  him  sounded  a  buzz  and 
a  hiss,  and  right  in  front  of  him  were  little  puffs  of 
smoke  floating  upward  like  soap-bubbles.  Behind 
the  bubbles  flashed  the  red  fez  of  the  Turk.  He  was 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  enemy;  there  were  only 


FREDERIC   VILLIERS  161 

a  few  boulders  intervening.  Villiers  seems,  curiously 
enough,  to  have  forgotten  about  the  dyspepsia  and 
his  melancholy  longing  for  death.     He  bolted. 

The  retreat  was  a  regular  rout.  "The  way  was 
crowded,"  wrote  Villiers,  "with  infantry,  baggage 
wagons,  ambulances,  cavalry  and  artillery,  all  hurry- 
ing down  the  mountain  like  an  angry  torrent,  arrested 
a  moment  here,  then  surging  up,  breaking  its  way, 
cutting  fresh  courses,  spreading  itself  down  the  pre- 
cipitous sides  to  the  base  of  the  mountain,  at  least 
4,000  feet  below."  With  the  night  came  a  terrific 
thunderstorm,  and  hundreds  of  cattle  loosed  from  the 
mountain  camp  raced  down  the  path,  trampling  the 
wounded  into  the  mud  as  they  ran.  The  Turkish 
cannon  bombarded  the  fugitives  and  the  shells  wrecked 
hundreds  of  carts  and  wounded  and  killed  scores  of 
men. 

Villiers  was  "breaking  into  the  game"  with  a 
vengeance.  He  wore  an  ulster  which,  drenched  with 
rain,  was  weighing  him  down.  He  clung,  dead  beat, 
to  a  wagon  wheel  and  plodded  on.  A  voice  from  within 
the  cart  asked  him  to  scramble  up.  An  officer,  speak- 
ing a  little  English,  was  lying  on  the  straw  in  the  box, 
badly  wounded.  Villiers  fell  asleep.  In  the  morning 
down  in  the  plains,  the  pursuit  abandoned,  he  dis- 
covered by  his  side  the  kind-hearted  Servian  cold  in 
death,  and  over  himself  the  waterproof  cloak  which 
the  wounded  man  had  taken  from  his  own  shoulders 
for  the  protection  of  the  stranger. 

To  his  delight,  upon  his  return  to  Alexinatz,  Villiers 
found  Forbes.  The  schoolhouse  near  the  inn  had  been 
transformed  into  a  hospital  and  a  lot  of  young  English 
surgeons  were  hard  at  work  there.  Day  by  day  the 
artist  and  the  correspondent  observed  the  advance  of 


162     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  enemy  upon  the  town.  Through  the  nights  they 
watched  the  stretcher-bearers  trailing  over  the  bridge 
and  up  the  streets  with  their  maimed  fellow  country- 
men. Grewsome  pictures,  indeed,  Villiers  made  of  those 
scenes.  Badly  wounded  men  waited  hours  for  their 
turns  from  the  surgeons,  and  then  crawled  out  of  the 
stretchers  and  wriggled  along  towards  the  school- 
house,  many  dying  on  the  way.  The  artist  helped  the 
doctors  when  he  could,  passing  instruments  from  room 
to  room,  holding  candles,  sometimes  squeezing  the 
hands  of  a  man  under  an  operation,  standing  the 
horror  of  it  all  as  long  as  was  possible  for  him,  and  then 
seeking  the  open  air  for  rest  and  a  sight  of  the  stars. 
The  dawn  following  the  worst  of  these  awful 
nights  brought  a  force  of  Russian  volunteers  and  with 
the  sun-rising  came  Servian  reenforcements.  Says 
the  artist: 

"To  blare  of  bugles,  with  swinging  gait,  they  tramped 
down  the  street.  Some  of  the  few  remaining  wounded  of  the 
previous  night,  still  lying  in  the  roadway,  aroused  them- 
selves for  the  moment  and  tried  to  turn  their  groans  to 
cheers.  Regiment  after  regiment  passed  on.  Far  into  the 
morn  the  points  of  the  bayonets  glistened  above  the  dust  as 
the  troops  marched  through  the  town,  out  into  the  open, 
into  the  valley  —  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  for  the 
smell  of  powder  and  blood  was  everywhere.  The  desultory 
shots  which  had  been  exchanged  in  the  early  morning  had 
gradually  ceased,  and  for  a  time  a  universal  quietude 
reigned. " 

At  noon,  however,  the  battle  began.  Forbes 
restrained  the  impatience  of  his  inexperienced  comrade, 
who  was  eager  to  be  off  with  the  first  sound  of  the  can- 
non, and  they  had  a  good  meal  together  before  they 
went  forward.  They  watched  the  action,  falling  flat 
on  their  faces  as  shells  whistled  over  their  heads.    On 


FREDERIC   VILLIERS  163 

a  house  in  a  little  near-by  village  they  saw  a  Red 
Cross  flag,  and  within,  to  their  astonishment,  they 
found  three  Russian  women,  their  uniforms  bedabbled 
with  blood,  standing  by  their  wounded,  while  shells 
loosened  tiles  upon  the  roof  of  their  quarters.  The 
Servians  were  retreating.  But  the  nurses  scorned  the 
advice  of  Villiers  that  they  go.  One,  "with  top-boots 
of  Hessian  cut,  short  skirt  and  Cossack  jacket,  with 
pistol  slung  across  her  shoulders,"  touched  her  "little 
black  silk  Montenegrin  cap"  and  advised  him  as  a 
non-combatant  to  seek  a  place  of  safety. 

The  nurses  stayed,  and  Forbes  and  Villiers  felt 
obliged  also  to  stay.  The  Turkish  sharpshooters  were 
close  in.  When  finally  with  their  contingent  of 
wounded  they  left  one  end  of  the  bridge  the  Turks 
entered  the  other.  For  about  an  hour  the  Servians 
made  a  stand.  Forbes,  Villiers,  a  surgeon  and  a 
wounded  soldier  got  away  in  an  ambulance  wagon.  As 
they  looked  back  they  saw  the  Red  Cross  flag  still  fly- 
ing, but  over  the  heads  of  the  Turks.  The  jaded 
column  of  beaten  Servians  passed  over  the  bridge  into 
Alexinatz,  where  the  horrors  of  the  preceding  night 
were  repeated.  The  news  men  found  a  Russian  corre- 
spondent dead  in  the  town.  Two  other  correspondents 
were  killed  in  that  short  campaign  and  one  was 
wounded,  out  of  twenty  who  followed  the  war.  Villiers 
records  that  "one  met  death  heroically,  fighting  the 
enemy,  defending  the  redoubt  of  which  he  had  been 
made  commandant  for  his  personal  bravery." 

The  Servians  were  badly  whipped  in  that  brief 
struggle.  The  decisive  victory  was  won  by  the  Turks 
at  Djunis.  Villiers  missed  the  battle,  for  his  paper  had 
wired  him  to  proceed  to  Bombay  for  the  proclamation 
of  the  English  Queen  as  Empress  of  India. 


164     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

But  after  all  he  did  not  go  to  India.  He  hurried 
back  to  Belgrade  and  Vienna  for  further  orders.  When 
they  came  they  directed  him  to  omit  India  and  instead 
to  try  to  join  the  Turkish  army.  Down  the  Danube 
therefore  he  sailed  again,  this  time  for  Rustchuk.  Here 
he  was  given  every  opportunity  to  examine  the  famous 
fortress.  Surprising  things  happened  to  him;  he 
inspected  the  troops,  walking  down  the  lines,  looking  at 
their  appearance  and  commenting  upon  the  physique  of 
the  men.  He  was  received  in  state  by  the  commandant 
and  his  staff  and  smoked  their  cigarettes  and  drank 
their  coffee  with  great  ceremony.  This  was  excellent 
but  puzzling.  On  the  way  back  Villiers  learned  that 
his  interpreter  had  told  his  hosts  that  he  was  an 
English  colonel  traveling  incognito,  a  member  of 
Parliament,  who  "wanted  see  great  Turkish  army." 
Villiers  thought  it  expedient  to  get  out  of  Rustchuk 
early  next  morning.  He  went  directly  to  Constanti- 
nople. 

He  was  aware  that  his  position  was  one  of  consider- 
able danger.  Having  shared  the  vicissitudes  of  the 
Servian  army  for  months,  suddenly  to  go  over  to  the 
Turks  was  a  change  fraught  with  peril.  He  was  to 
forget  the  Servians  and  start  as  a  gentleman  just  out 
from  England  who  was  anxious  to  see  something  of 
the  Turkish  military  man.  Luckily  in  those  days 
sketches  were  seldom  published  with  the  names  of 
their  artists  and  he  was  little  known  even  to  the 
English  in  Constantinople. 

Luck  befriended  him.  He  met  a  jolly  sea-captain 
who  had  commanded  a  vessel  in  the  Black  Sea  in  the 
Crimean  war.  The  Turks  remembered  him  grate- 
fully. He  had  conceived  the  notion  of  writing  a  book 
about  Turkey.    To  write  it  he  must  travel.     To  travel 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  165 

he  must  have  a  passport  or  finnan.  The  authorities 
provided  him  with  one  a  foot  and  a  half  long.  That 
was  a  very  precious  scroll,  for  the  Turks  would  measure 
the  importance  of  a  visitor  by  the  length  of  the  firman 
he  might  bear.  Villiers,  sure  he  could  not  get  a  permit 
on  his  own  account,  induced  the  captain  to  include 
him  in  his  firman  as  secretary,  without  mentioning  his 
name. 

They  went  hither  and  thither  about  Turkey  to- 
gether. Such  attentions  as  were  bestowed  upon  them! 
"At  Adrianople,"  says  Villiers,  **an  aide-de-camp  of 
the  government  met  us;  we  were  billetted  on  the 
first  merchant  of  the  town,  who,  with  usual  Oriental 
politeness,  would  come  in  after  the  evening  meal  and 
inquire  after  our  healths,  and  with  a  salaam  assure  us 
that  his  house  and  his  servants  and  his  animals  were 
no  longer  his  but  ours." 

Much  of  the  miseries  of  Roumelia  they  saw.  Vil- 
lages were  gone.  Houses  were  in  ruins,  only  chimneys 
standing.  Bodies,  thinly  interred,  lay  in  the  streets. 
Carrion  birds  hovered  over  the  country.  From  time 
to  time  they  met  Bashi-Bazouks  and  Circassians. 
They  were  not  molested,  for  the  fiat  had  gone  out  from 
Constantinople  that  the  English  were  to  be  respected. 

At  the  frontier  town  of  Nisch,  Villiers  received  a 
serious  warning  from  an  English  friend  that  the 
governor  of  Alexinatz  had  threatened  to  hang  the 
correspondent  of  the  Graphic  on  sight  should  he  fall 
into  Turkish  hands.  To  Alexinatz  the  artist  went 
nevertheless  and  right  into  the  presence  of  the  governor 
of  the  sacked  and  ruined  town,  finding  him  seated  on  a 
packing  case  warming  his  hands  over  a  charcoal 
brazier.  The  firman  was  as  potent  as  ever.  He 
dined   in   state   with   his   would-be   executioner   and 


166      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

received  many  good  wishes  from  him  as  he  departed 
with  the  sea-captain  back  to  Nisch. 

Returning  to  Constantinople  the  artist  fell  in  with 
"Val"  Baker,  the  famous  British  cavalry  officer,  who 
was  awaiting  the  outcome  of  his  proposal  to  reorganize 
the  Turkish  gendarmerie.  Colonel  Valentine  Baker, 
to  use  the  full  name  and  title,  assured  Villiers,  as  the 
artist  was  leaving  to  watch  the  mobilization  of  the 
Russian  army,  that  he  expected  soon  to  follow,  for 
"nothing  was  to  be  done  with  the  Turks."  But  when 
Villiers  again  met  him  it  was  in  the  same  Constantinople 
club  house,  and  Baker  was  the  hero  of  the  hour,  for  he 
had  just  made  for  himself  a  great  name  by  covering  the 
retreat  of  the  remnant  of  the  Turkish  army  in  the 
spring  of  1878. 

Villiers  went  from  the  capital  to  Jassy  in  Roumania, 
where  he  planned  to  cross  the  Pruth  into  Russia.  It 
was  impossible  as  an  English  news  artist  to  advance  in 
that  direction,  so  he  annexed  himself  to  a  Swedish 
grocer  who  was  leaving  for  Odessa  on  a  business  trip. 
Now  for  once  he  lost  his  luck.  By  taking  an  unlighted 
cigarette  into  the  police  bureau  of  a  frontier  town 
he  betrayed  the  fact  that  he  was  not  accustomed  to 
travel  in  Russia.  On  the  wall  hung  a  crude  picture  of 
the  Czar.  He  was  reproved  for  smoking  in  the  august 
presence,  in  spite  of  the  absence  of  smoke,  and  until 
he  was  in  the  train  for  Odessa  he  could  feel  suspicious 
eyes  always  upon  him.  At  Kishinef  he  left  the  train 
and  the  grocer  and  began  making  sketches. 

Troops  were  massing  outside  the  town.  The  artist 
wished  to  be  inconspicuous  and  therefore  used  no 
notebook  of  any  kind,  actually  making  minute  "notes" 
on  his  finger  nails,  and  transferring  his  drawings  to 
paper  under  the  shelter  of  his  hotel.     The  cold  was 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  167 

severe,  and  once  he  nearly  lost  thumb  and  "notes" 
by  frost-bite.  A  Scotchman,  serving  as  a  Russian 
postmaster,  detected  his  nationality  and  Villiers 
confided  to  him  his  secret.  Suspicion  allayed  by  the 
kind  oflSces  of  this  new  friend,  the  adventurous  artist 
got  across  the  frontier  with  his  pocket  full  of  sketches. 

For  rest,  and  to  get  a  kit  for  the  coming  campaign, 
Villiers  now  returned  to  England.  Within  a  month 
came  Russia's  declaration  of  war  upon  Turkey,  on 
April  24,  1877.  It  was  his  birthday  and  he  put  in  the 
day  traveling  to  the  front.  He  reached  Bucharest 
barely  in  time  to  catch  the  train  for  Ibrila,  and  next 
morning  he  saw  the  first  shot  fired  across  the  Danube 
into  the  town  from  a  Turkish  monitor  in  the  river. 
Villiers,  moreover,  was  one  of  four  correspondents  who 
were  in  that  terrific  struggle  from  beginning  to  end; 
he  heard  the  last  shots  of  the  war  and  witnessed 
the  proclamation  of  peace  by  the  Russians  on  the 
plains  of  San  Stefano  within  sight  of  the  minarets  of 
Constantinople. 

Those  were  the  golden  days  of  the  war  reporters. 
They  were  free  lances,  coming  and  going  almost  at 
will,  several  scores  in  number,  very  keen  in  com- 
petition, clever  in  strategy  for  access  to  the  wires 
over  which  their  news  sped  to  London  and  the  other 
news  centres  of  the  world.  So  many  references  are 
made  to  this  war  in  this  volume  and  to  the  adventures 
of  the  correspondents  who  followed  it,  that  but  two  or 
three  episodes  in  the  experiences  of  Villiers  in  the 
campaign  shall  be  related. 

The  first  fighting  he  saw  was  at  the  crossing  of 
the  Danube,  and  he  there  did  one  of  his  quickest 
sketches.  Forbes  told  him  he  would  be  his  postman 
if  he  could  have  a  picture  ready  in  twenty  minutes. 


168     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

It  was  a  rough  sketch  necessarily  but  it  was  ready  on 
the  minute,  and  the  Graphic  had  a  quadruple  page  of 
the  crossing  as  a  result.  When  Forbes  returned  from 
Bucharest  the  two  went  with  Arnoldi's  cavalry  brigade 
on  the  invasion  of  Turkey. 

Now  came  one  of  the  most  adventurous  nights  of 
Villiers's  career.  The  troop  was  near  Bjela  in  camp 
in  a  gorge  which  cleft  its  way  through  a  belt  of  hills. 
In  the  evening  Circassian  cavalry  were  seen  in  numbers 
along  the  crests.  Next  day  the  enemy  were  found  to 
be  in  such  force  that  Arnoldi  became  very  anxious 
about  his  position.  The  troopers  stood  by  their  horses 
all  day  long,  firing  from  time  to  time  at  the  enemy,  wait- 
ing for  the  relief  that  ought  soon  to  arrive,  and  then 
when  the  sun  was  sinking  "through  the  dust,  specks  of 
fire  sparkled  as  the  red  glow  glinted  on  the  tips  of 
bayonets. "  Far  below  the  watching  artist  the  tramp- 
ing infantry  marched  into  the  town  and  the  enemy 
disappeared. 

That  night  Villiers,  after  dining  with  Arnoldi,  had 
to  make  his  way  back  to  his  quarters  at  some  distance. 
A  score  of  soldiers,  who  had  broken  open  several  casks 
of  liquor  and  in  consequence  were  much  intoxicated, 
arrested  him,  declaring,  because  of  the  imperfections 
of  his  Russian,  that  he  must  be  a  Turk.  They  pushed 
him  into  a  cellar  an  inch  deep  in  liquor  and  searched 
him,  taking  his  sketches  and  purse  and  then  hustling 
him  out  into  the  road.  Two  of  them  would  have 
bayonetted  him,  but  Villiers  caught  the  cold  steel 
with  his  hands  and  forced  it  aside,  when  the  others 
protested  that  he  should  be  kept  in  safety.  Ultimately 
they  took  him  to  a  bivouac  of  infantry  where  an  oflBcer 
recognized  him  and  caused  his  belongings  to  be  restored. 


FREDERIC   VILLIERS  169 

He  got  back  to  his  house  fagged  out  and  at  once  fell 
asleep.     But  the  night  was  not  yet  over. 

"Presently,"  he  says,  "I  was  disturbed  by  a  soft  vel- 
vety touch  on  my  face,  then  came  a  gentle  pressure  of  my 
hands.  Thinking  I  was  in  the  throes  of  a  nightmare  I 
sighed,  and  still  slept.  Now  came  a  pinch  and  then  a 
tweak  of  my  nose.  I  sat  up  rubbing  my  eyes,  and  there  in 
a  ray  of  soft  moonhght  were  two  lovely  damsels  in  pictur- 
esque robes-de-nuit,  wringing  their  hands  and  sadly  moaning. 
On  seeing  me  awake  they  rushed  at  me  and  shook  me  until 
I  was  fully  aroused,  then  they  pointed  to  the  window,  and, 
in  language  utterly  unintelligible  to  me,  rapidly  began 
talking.  Their  faces  were  full  of  fear  and  they  seemed  in 
great  distress,  so  I  arose,  shook  myself,  and  stood  by  their 
side." 

He  looked  out  upon  a  large  number  of  drunken 
troopers  engaged  in  the  delectable  occupation  of 
looting  the  stores  of  Bjela.  They  staggered  about, 
carrying  torches  made  of  fragments  of  doors  and 
windows  steeped  in  pitch.  A  number  of  them  halted 
in  front  of  Villiers's  house.  Forbes  was  away  with 
despatches,  but  his  servant,  Andreas,  was  in  the  next 
room.  Villiers  found  the  husband  of  one  of  the 
women  crouching  in  terror  in  a  corner.  Now  the 
looters  were  hammering  at  the  door.  Villiers  tried 
strategy.  He  caused  Andreas  to  throw  open  a  window 
and  tell  the  soldiers  gruiOfly  that  this  was  the  house  of 
a  Russian  oflScer.  But  in  an  hour  the  depredators 
were  back.  Villiers  then  directed  the  cringing  hus- 
band to  blockade  the  door  of  the  room  with  furniture, 
gave  the  women  his  revolver,  and  with  Andreas  went 
to  the  yard.  They  flung  open  the  door  and  allowed 
themselves  to  be  dragged  into  the  roadway,  their 
clothing  almost  totn  from  their  bodies. 

A  sentry  saved  them.     He  saw  upon  the  artist's 


170     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

arm  the  insignia  of  his  profession  bearing  the  imperial 
arms  of  Russia,  and  he  understood  the  shouts  of 
Andreas*.  The  ruffians  stole  hurriedly  away.  As 
day  broke,  Villiers  went  with  the  story  to  the 
colonel  in  command  of  the  camp  above  the  town, 
and  a  rescue  party  arrived  just  in  time  to  prevent  the 
smashing  of  the  barricaded  door.  Two  dead  bodies 
were  found,  both  with  blackened  lips  and  blistered 
hands.  Villiers  looked  at  his  boots;  there  were  dark 
spots  on  them;  his  fingers  went  through  them  as  if 
they  were  paper.  They  demanded  of  the  landlord 
what  was  the  wine  he  kept  in  his  cellars.     He  replied: 

"Honored  stranger,  I  am  a  leather  dresser,  and  in 
one  of  my  cellars  I  keep  vitriol  in  bottles,  for  use  in 
my  trade;  in  another  the  wine  of  my  country." 

The  rioters  had  not  been  fortunate  in  their  choice 
of  cellars. 

Villiers  became  good  friends  with  General  Arnoldi, 
for  the  soldier  liked  to  sketch  and  they  did  many  water 
colors  together.  One  night  the  news  man  got  a  valu- 
able tip.  "If  I  were  a  war  correspondent,"  he  was 
told,  "I  should  not  remain  here,  for  you  know,  Mr. 
Villiers,  there  are  other  means  besides  fighting  for 
taking  a  fortress."  This  was  a  puzzle  to  the  artist, 
but  Forbes  understood  and  so  they  left  next  day  for 
the  Emperor's  headquarters.  Count  Ignatieff  there 
befriended  them  and  suggested  they  should  go  and  see 
the  Russians  take  a  place  called 'Plevna! 

The  general  in  charge  of  the  left  wing  of  the  Russian 
army  they  found  seated  in  the  verandah  of  a  small 
Bulgarian  hut.  On  presenting  their  letter  of  intro- 
duction from  the  Count  the  general  smiled  grimly, 
and  said,  "Gentlemen,  it  is  well  you  brought  this  note; 
I  feel  compelled  to  allow  you  to  remain;  personally 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  171 

I  should  have  requested  you  to  leave  the  camp,"  and, 
while  they  looked  wistfully  at  the  servant's  preparations 
for  dinner  upon  a  plank  placed  across  two  barrels,  he 
added,  "Gentlemen,  I  am  about  to  take  my  dinner; 
good  evening."  They  could  not  miss  his  meaning 
and  bowed  themselves  away.  No  food  was  to  be  had; 
in  an  empty  shack  they  smoked  themselves  to  sleep. 
It  was  a  Russian  count  who  had  been  a  military 
attache  at  the  Court  of  St.  James  who  had  compassion 
on  them,  for  late  next  day  he  approached  and  said  in 
English: 

"I  know  you  must  be  without  food.  If  this  poor 
fare  will  be  of  service  to  you  take  it  with  pleasure." 
He  produced  a  lump  of  dried  meat  and  an  onion  from 
his  pockets,  and  promised  them  later  some  bouillon 
at  his  tent. 

Many  adventures  did  Villiers  experience  while 
waiting  for  the  Russians  to  take  that  "place  called 
Plevna."  They  took  the  place  after  one  hundred 
and  forty-two  days  of  tremendous  fighting.  Odd 
little  incidents  stuck  in  Villiers's  memory.  Years 
after  he  recalled  the  castaway  kettle-drum  stuck  in 
the  mud,  rim  uppermost.  A  Russian-Parisian  friend, 
eyeglass  in  eye,  used  to  begin,  "Mon  cher  Villiers," 
and  go  on  with  his  stories  about  Paris  Grand  Opera 
and  pretty  dancers,  while  shells  showered  him  with  mud. 
After  some  time  Villiers  fell  ill  and  became  very  weak. 
There  was  nothing  he  could  better  do  than  join  the 
ambulance  corps  and  off  he  went  to  aid  the  wounded. 
That  led  to  an  incident  which  has  been  told  at  length 
by  both  Forbes  and  himself. 

All  one  night  he  labored,  requisitioning  straw  from 
bams  and  thatch  from  village  houses  for  the  wounded 
to  lie  upon.     Many  men  were  placed  on  litters  and  the 


172      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ambulance  corps  stood  on  guard  round  them  until 
sunrise  showed  them  safe  for  the  time.  When  morn- 
ing was  well  advanced  Villiers  turned  his  horse's  head 
toward  the  Danube,  for  he  had  a  valuable  packet  of 
sketches  to  mail. 

About  midday  he  came  up  with  the  head  of  the 
retreating  army.  The  remnant  of  a  force  of  30,000 
men  was  crowding  over  a  little  bridge,  crowding  into 
a  little  valley  beyond,  and  crowding  through  the  passes 
still  farther  on.  That  was  Osman  Digna's  opportunity 
to  drive  the  demoralized  Russians  into  the  Danube, 
but  for  some  reason  he  stayed  at  Plevna. 

Late  at  night  Villiers  arrived  at  Sistova.  He  could 
get  no  shelter  and  fell  asleep  on  the  flags  of  the  court- 
yard of  the  inn,  his  horse  crunching  corn  and  tethered 
to  his  wrist.  At  dawn  he  crossed  the  bridge  to  Simnitza 
and  hurried  on  to  Giurgevo  to  catch  the  evening 
train  for  Bucharest.  Within  a  mile  of  the  station  he 
found  himself  in  danger.  He  was  riding  between  the 
river  and  a  deep  trench  in  which  there  lurked  shadows 
that  frightened  his  horse.  The  Turks  in  Rustchuk 
used  to  fire  every  afternoon  at  the  train  as  it  departed 
for  Bucharest,  and  today  they  amused  themselves  by 
bringing  a  gun  to  bear  upon  the  lone  rider  struggling 
with  a  refractory  horse  to  catch  the  cars.  But  while 
Villiers  was  in  considerable  peril  of  being  hit,  the  shots 
helped  him  make  the  train,  for  the  horse  bolted  and 
brought  him  to  the  station  just  in  time  to  leave  the 
animal  in  charge  of  a  Cossack  and  leap  aboard  the  last 
coach. 

Bucharest  was  reached  about  nine  that  evening. 
Unwashed  for  three  days,  Villiers  was  covered  with 
dust.  The  uppers  of  his  long  boots  had  almost  worn 
through  his  riding  breeches;  he  was  stiff,  weary  and 


FREDERIC   VILLIERS  173 

hungry.  He  staggered  into  the  pretty  little  garden 
of  an  hotel,  where  two  gentlemen  sitting  under  the  trees 
stared  at  him  long  and  fixedly. 

Now  for  Forbes's  account  of  the  same  episode.  The 
battle  over,  the  correspondent  had  not  been  able  to 
find  the  artist  anywhere.  No  surgeon  had  seen  him; 
no  soldier  recalled  him.  Forbes  had  a  bad  night, 
dodging  the  marauding  bands  of  the  enemy,  and  with 
the  dawn  came  the  awful  tidings  that  in  the  darkness 
the  Bashi-Bazouks  had  worked  around  the  flank  of 
the  Russian  picket  line,  had  crept  into  the  village,  and 
had  butchered  the  wounded  and  the  surgeons  there. 
Forbes  was  in  an  agony  of  apprehension.  Where  was 
Villiers?  He  searched  until  Turkish  sharpshooters 
stopped  him.  Every  one  said:  "If  he  was  in  the 
village  last  night  he  is  there  now,  but  not  alive."  At 
last  he  had  to  ride  for  the  wire  with  his  message  for  the 
Daily  News.  That  was  the  ride  in  which  he  killed  his 
horse,  as  is  told  elsewhere. 

His  news  despatched,  the  reporter  got  himself 
trimmed  and  cleansed  into  some  semblance  of  fitness 
for  the  little  Paris  of  the  East.  Friends  of  Villiers 
came  seeking  tidings  of  the  artist.  They  held  a 
consultation  and  agreed  to  wait  a  day  before  putting 
on  the  wires  the  story  of  his  death.  Most  of  the  day 
the  fagged-out  correspondent  slept.  In  the  evening 
with  W.  Beatty  Kingston  of  the  Daily  Telegraph  and 
others  he  went  to  the  hotel  garden  for  dinner.  A 
bedraggled  figure  came  in  and  a  familiar  voice  called 
for  food  in  a  hurry.     It  was  Villiers! 

That  was  a  glad  meeting.     Says  Villiers: 

"Forbes  turned  around  and  uttered  a  short  exclamation 
of  surprise,  and  then,  with  the  others,  stared  at  me  with  a 
peculiar  look  that  I  shall  never  forget.     I  was  suddenly 


174     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

arrested  by  this  curious  expression  on  their  faces,  and  stood 
transfixed.  Forbes  rose  from  the  table  and  walked  with  an 
incredulous  gait  toward  me.  When  he  came  within  a  yard 
he  suddenly  gave  a  shout  of  satisfaction  and  grasped  me  by 
the  shoulder,  shaking  me  all  the  while. " 

The  Bashi-Bazouks  that  night  had  reached  the 
village  just  after  Villiers  had  left. 

At  one  other  time  he  was  supposed  to  have  been 
slain.  That  was  when  Hicks  Pasha  was  annihilated 
at  El  Obeid  in  November,  1883.  The  London  evening 
papers  announced  the  death  of  Villiers.  And  the 
artist  "read  the  announcement  in  Fleet  Street,  while 
an  acquaintance  at  the  Savage  Club  was  standing 
with  his  back  to  the  fire  holding  forth  upon  the  cam- 
paigns they  had  been  through  together." 

Of  MacGahan  also  Villiers  saw  much  and  he 
talks  of  hhn  to  this  day.  Typhus  was  raging  in 
Constantinople;  throughout  the  city  the  funeral  dirge 
was  heard  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  and  in  the  evening 
the  death  boats  with  their  cargoes  collected  from  the 
mosques,  would  sail  silently  across  the  Hellespont  to 
the  old  burial  ground  of  Scutari,  where  in  huge  trenches, 
"unwashed  and  unshriven,  the  innocent  victims  of  the 
cruel  war  were  placed  to  rest."  It  was  Villiers  who 
notified  Skobeleff  of  MacGahan's  death. 

The  next  station  in  the  itinerary  of  the  "  vagrant 
artist"  was  Malta,  where  he  sketched  the  reviews  of  the 
troops  from  India.  As  the  Indian  troops  came  to  the 
Mediterranean  Russia  sent  what  was  ostensibly  a 
pacific  mission  to  Cabul.  The  Ameer  refused  to  allow 
a  British  mission  to  visit  him  just  at  the  time  and 
England  proceeded  to  force  the  mountain  passes.  In 
that  Afghan  War,  Villiers  shared  the  vicissitudes  of 
the  campaign  with  a  native  regiment.    At  Peshawr 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  175 

he  again  met  Forbes,  who  was  on  his  way  to  Burmah. 
ViUiers  found  the  fighting  desultory  and  unsatisfactory, 
but  he  became  fast  friends  with  Sir  Louis  Cavagnari, 
whom  he  regarded  as  the  most  distinguished  officer  of 
the  campaign,  and  after  the  peace  was  signed  the 
officer  gave  him  the  pens  with  which  the  signatures 
were  written.  Australia  was  next;  dinner  with  the 
Viceroy  at  Simla,  P.  and  O.  steamer  from  Bombay, 
then  the  exhibition  at  Sydney  and  then  Tasmania 
and  New  Zealand,  San  Francisco  and  New  York, 
and  across  the  Atlantic  to  London  —  his  first  girdling 
of  the  globe. 

He  settled  down  to  paint  and  had  a  picture  on  the 
walls  of  the  Royal  Academy.  Returning  from  Scotland, 
where  he  had  been  to  visit  Forbes,  he  found  that 
Arabi  Pasha  was  stirring  up  a  revolt  in  the  land  of  the 
Nile,  and  when  the  massacre  in  Alexandria  took  place 
on  June  11,  1882,  he  started  once  more  on  his  wander- 
ing life.  Thus  began  his  long  series  of  campaigns  in 
Egypt  and  the  Soudan,  a  series  which  ended  only 
with  the  victory  at  Omdurman  in  1898. 

The  exigences  of  the  situation  at  Alexandria  caused 
ViUiers  to  accept  the  invitation  of  Lord  Charles 
Beresford  to  take  quarters  aboard  the  gunboat  Condor, 
In  virtue  of  her  short  draught  the  boat  was  moored  in 
the  inner  harbor  under  the  shadow  of  the  summer 
palace  of  the  Khedive.  There  were  all  sorts  of  stories 
afloat  as  to  the  proximity  of  the  ship  to  the  palace; 
one  was  that  if  hostilities  began  she  was  to  aid  in  the 
escape  of  the  ladies  of  the  harem.  The  only  dangerous 
piece  of  ordnance  possessed  by  Arabi  was  two  hundred 
yards  away.  Beresford  had  hung  every  piece  of  spare 
iron  and  chain  he  had  on  board  over  the  bulwarks, 
making  a  sort  of  chain  armor  for  the  vessel  and  giving 


176      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

her  a  rakish  list  to  starboard.     Day  and  night  a  glass 
was  leveled  upon  the  cover  of  Arabi's  cannon. 

Villiers  has  said  that  he  always  has  felt  indirectly 
responsible  for  the  events  that  followed.  Admiral 
Sir  Beauchamp  Seymour  had  sent  Arabi  an  ultimatum 
that  if  more  guns  were  mounted  in  the  forts  the  act 
would  be  regarded  as  a  cause  for  war.  It  was  Villiers 
who  brought  the  news  that  Arabi  was  mounting  guns, 
and  thus  was  precipitated  the  bombardment  of  the  city. 
Says  the  artist: 

"One  morning  on  landing  on  the  Marina,  I  met  a  con- 
tractor for  the  navy  who  told  me  that  some  mysterious 
work  was  going  on  by  Arabi  in  the  direction  of  the  old 
harbor.  He  thought  that  Arabi  was  mounting  guns,  and 
his  brother,  *who  lived  in  a  house  overlooking  the  Pharos, 
had  heard  strange  noises  during  the  night,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing had  seen  soldiers  making  gun  platforms  and  mounting 
cannon.'  I  hurried  off  to  my  friend's  brother's  house  and 
saw  from  the  balcony  that  the  fort  near  the  lighthouse  was 
being  quickly  armed,  though  with  the  daylight  the  guns  had 
disappeared.  I  took  a  sketch  of  what  I  saw,  returned  to  the 
Condor,  informed  the  commander,  gave  him  my  sketches, 
which  he  immediately  took  to  the  Admiral.  Now  simply 
being  a  correspondent  my  information  could  not  be  recog- 
nized officially,  so  a  British  officer  dressed  as  an  Arab  was 
sent  to  the  fort  to  confirm  my  story.  He  rowed  ashore, 
landed,  examined  the  fort  and  found  my  story  true." 

The  artist  was  aboard  the  Condor  during  the  bom- 
bardment. There  was  a  dinner  on  deck  the  night  before 
that  momentous  event  took  place,  attended  by  the 
captains  of  French,  German  and  American  ships,  and 
many  pretty  things  were  said.  To  be  ready  for  action 
there  remained  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  oil  the  racers 
of  the  guns  and  to  sand  the  decks  that  the  men  might 
have  a  firmer  grip  for  their  feet  as  they  manned  the 
muzzle-loaders. 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  177 

During  the  bombardment  the  Condor's  opportunity 
came  and  was  seized  promptly  by  her  commander,  for 
Beresford  resolved  to  divert  the  fire  'Of  Fort  Marabout 
then  annoying  the  Admiral's  ships.  The  Condor 
steamed  in  and  the  men  eagerly  stripped  off  their 
jackets.  The  pen  of  the  artist  told  what  the  ship  did 
almost  as  vividly  as  did  his  pencil  picture  her  service. 
In  his  long  description  of  the  action  there  are  many 
graphic  passages: 

"As  we  neared  the  fort,  and  its  terraces  and  embrasures, 
bristling  with  Armstrong  guns,  loomed  out  of  the  morning 
haze,  not  a  man  aboard  but  knew  the  peril  of  our  audacity  — 
for  a  little  gunboat,  one  of  the  smallest  in  Her  Majesty's 
service,  to  dare  to  attack  the  second  most  powerful  fortress 
in  Alexandria  —  but  the  shout  of  enthusiasm  from  the  crew 
when  the  order  was  given  to  *Open  fire!'  readily  showed 
their  confidence  in  their  beloved  leader. 

"The  guns  blazed  away.  The  smoke  hung  heavily 
about  the  decks.  The  flash  of  the  cannonade  lit  up  for  a 
moment  the  faces  of  the  men,  already  begrimed  with  powder, 
and  steaming  with  exertion,  for  the  morning  was  hot  and 
sultry.  The  captain  from  the  bridge  with  glass  in  hand 
watched  anxiously  the  aim  of  the  gunners.  .  .  .  Then  a  shout 
from  the  men  in  the  main-mast  told  us  on  deck  that  the 
shot  had  made  its  mark.  The  little  ship  quaked  again  with 
the  blast  of  her  guns.  The  men  were  now  almost  black 
with  powder,  and  continually  dipped  their  heads  in  the 
sponge  buckets  to  keep  the  grit  from  their  eyes. 

"One  of  our  shots  had  fallen  within  the  enemy's  works, 
another  had  taken  a  yard  of  a  scarp  off  —  for  a  slight  breeze 
had  lifted  the  cloud  of  smoke,  and  all  on  board  could  plainly 
see  the  enemy  working  in  their  embrasures.  The  Arab 
gunners  now  trained  one  of  their  Armstrongs  in  our  direction. 
Oiu  engine  bell  sounded  and  the  Condor  steamed  ahead. 
A  puff  of  smoke  from  the  fort,  a  dull  boom,  a  rush  of  shell 
through  the  air,  and  a  jet  of  water  shot  up  astern,  followed 
by  a  shout  from  our  men.  The  enemy  had  missed  us.  .  .  . 
"The  fire  on  the  ships  attacking  Fort  Mex  slackened  and 


178     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

soon  ceased  altogether.  Irritated  by  the  constant  fire 
of  the  little  Condor,  the  Egyptian  gunners  now  devoted 
their  entire  attention  to  us.  They  set  about  slewing  their 
other  Armstrongs  in  our  direction.  Their  long  black 
muzzles  slowly  turned  toward  us.  We  looked  at  each  other, 
and  then  some  of  us  looked  at  the  captain,  for  the  situation 
was  becoming  critical.  ...  In  an  instant  he  decided  and 
gave  the  order  to  run  in  closer;  and  we  came  within  1200 
yards.  We  all  saw  in  a  moment  the  wisdom  of  the  seeming 
audacity.  We  were  well  within  their  guard;  though  the 
Gippies  blazed  at  us,  they  could  only  practice  at  our  masts, 
they  could  not  depress  their  guns  sufficiently  to  hull  us. 

"We  cheered  again  and  again  at  their  abortive  attempts 
to  get  us;  for  a  shot  below  water-mark,  with  the  lurch  the 
Condor  was  already  making  with  all  her  guns  abroadside, 
would  have  sent  her  down  into  Davy  Jones's  locker  in  less 
than  ten  minutes. 

"The  Egyptians  in  their  rage  opened  fire  with  their 
smooth  bores  from  the  lower  parapet.  The  round  shot 
would  whistle  through  our  rigging,  making  us  lie  low  awhile, 
but  we  would  scramble  to  our  feet  again,  dropping  another 
nine-inch  shell  well  within  their  works.  Only  once  did  the 
enemy  touch  us.  .  .  . 

"All  the  time  the  navigating  lieutenant,  with  eyes  fixed 
on  the  chart,  was  calmly  moving  the  vessel  up  and  down  a 
narrow  torturous  passage  which  we  could  distinctly  see  by 
peering  over  the  side  of  the  vessel,  for  the  reefs  on  either 
flank  of  the  narrow  channel  glistened  from  out  the  blue 
black  of  the  waters. 

"After  we  had  silenced  two  of  the  enemy's  guns,  and 
were  then  obliged  to  retire  for  want  of  ammunition,  how  the 
Admiral  in  return  signalled  *Well  done.  Condor  V  is  now  a 
matter  of  history." 

At  sundown,  with  John  Alexander  Cameron  of  the 
Standard,  Villiers  undertook  to  penetrate  the  city. 
They  passed  the  British  sentries  and  found  at  once 
how  perilous  was  their  enterprise;  they  stumbled  about 
over  debris  and  dead  bodies.  The  night  was  lighted 
by   the   glare    of    burning   houses;    incendiaries    and 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  179 

looters  were  at  work.  Afraid  of  attack,  the  two  press 
men  threaded  their  way  cautiously  through  a  labyrinth 
of  narrow  passages  and  at  last  reached  the  Place  of  the 
Consuls.  "It  was  one  vast  fiery  furnace,  a  quadrangle 
of  flame,"  declares  the  artist.  One  amusing  experi- 
ence befell  them:  as  they  looked  upon  the  tokens  of 
massacre  which  would  appal  the  British  news  readers 
the  following  morning,  they  discovered,  to  their  relief, 
that  the  headless  bodies  were  merely  dressmakers' 
dummies  which  had  been  denuded  of  their  finery  and 
left  in  the  square. 

At  one  period  in  that  night  of  adventures  they 
really  got  ready  for  a  fight  for  life;  at  any  time  a  body 
of  Arabi's  stragglers  might  attack  them.  When  they 
heard  the  steady  tramp  of  a  score  of  men  down  a  side 
street,  Cameron  knelt  in  the  shadow  of  a  shop  and 
held  his  rifle  poised  for  use  and  Villiers  stood  by  him 
with  cocked  revolver,  but  the  challenge,  when  it  came 
out  of  the  darkness,  was  in  good  round  English,  and  the 
correspondents  found  themselves  in  the  presence  of  the 
American  company  of  Bluejackets  whom  the  Admiral 
of  the  United  States  Navy  had  landed  to  assist  in  the 
patrolling  of  the  streets  and  the  suppression  of  the 
looters  and  the  incendiaries. 

There  followed  a  trying  time  for  the  war  correspond- 
ents. The  news  from  Alexandria  had  worked  the 
British  public  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement,  but 
after  the  bombardment  things  were  dull  for  a  while. 
Rumors  were  afloat  in  plenty;  canards  and  "fakes" 
were  printed,  and  editors  were  sending  out  anxious 
messages  asking  why  other  papers  had  had  what  pur- 
ported to  be  news  and  insisting  upon  knowing  whether 
their  own  men  had  been  beaten  or  not.  While  trans- 
ports  were   bringing   British   troops   every   day   the 


180     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

correspondents  spent  their  evenings  together  at  the 
hotel,  in  the  sort  of  vigilant  intimacy  which  keeps  a 
very  keen  eye  upon  the  men  for  all  papers  except  one's 
own,  every  man  almost  sick  with  fear  lest  some  paper 
should  get  a  scrap  of  real  news  that  he  himself  might 
miss. 

In  the  middle  of  one  night  a  London  news  writer 
routed  Villiers  out  of  bed  and  told  him  the  men  were  on 
the  march.  He  had  a  horse  ready  and  engaged  that 
himself  and  the  artist  alone  should  get  off  with  the 
column  and  they  rode  quietly  out  of  the  city  between 
the  rails  of  the  railway  and  into  the  desert.  They  did 
not  witness  much  of  an  action  as  it  turned  out  but  at 
any  rate  there  were  but  two  London  papers  that  had 
any  account  at  all  of  the  first  skirmish  of  the  campaign. 

Early  in  1883  Villiers  marched  with  General  Sir 
Gerald  Graham  from  the  Red  Sea  coast  for  the  relief 
of  Tokar.  Wading  through  liquid  mud  and  sand  over 
ankles  and  sometimes  up  to  their  knees,  the  men 
splashed  on  until  they  were  in  touch  with  the  enemy. 
In  the  desert  they  found  the  rotting  remnant  of  the 
army  of  Baker  Pasha,  the  "Val"  Baker  whom  Villiers 
had  seen  last  in  Constantinople.  Indeed,  in  one  of  the 
heaps  of  bodies  he  found  the  corpse  of  a  friend  with 
whom  he  seven  years  before  in  Bulgaria  had  nearly 
met  death  from  the  fumes  of  a  charcoal  brazier. 

As  the  square  moved  on  toward  El  Teb  to  the 
weird  screech  of  the  bagpipe.  Baker,  wounded,  stood 
by  Villiers  and  watched,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  the 
charge  of  his  old  regiment.  It  was  a  desperate  fight; 
black,  fuzzy  heads  would  pop  up  from  pits  in  the  sand, 
there  would  be  the  gleam  of  a  rifle  and  the  puff  and  the 
whiz  as  the  gun  was  fired,  and  the  head  would  disappear, 
having  been  in  sight  barely  for  a  second  or  two.     The 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  181 

artist  that  day  had  another  of  his  "close  shaves."  He 
was  sketching  a  lad  who  was  supposed  to  be  beyond 
fighting,  when  suddenly  the  Arab  sprang  into  the  air 
and  attacked  him.  Villiers  ran  for  it,  trying  to  draw 
his  revolver  as  he  raced  over  the  sand,  with  the  boy  so 
close  at  his  heels  that  he  felt  his  hot  breath  and  heard 
the  swish  of  the  descending  knife  as  his  pursuer  struck 
and  missed.  Still  clenching  the  knife,  the  boy  fell  from 
the  shot  of  one  of  the  soldiers. 

Villiers  was  in  the  broken  square  at  Tamai.  The 
night  before  that  battle  he  slept  with  his  revolver  under 
his  head,  sprawled  out  on  the  sand  and  looking  at  the 
stars,  noting  how  they  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  how 
Venus  and  the  Great  Bear  and  Orion  and  finally  the 
Southern  Cross  waned,  until  in  the  dawn  a  Scottish 
corporal  came  to  him  with  a  "wee  drap"  to  drive  the 
chill  from  his  veins.  When  "Fuzzy  Wuzzy"  actually 
came  bounding  into  the  square,  he  says: 

"  How  I  got  out  of  that  fight  I  hardly  know  to  this  day. 
A  great  source  of  anxiety  to  me  was  my  horse  —  an  animal 
which  was  the  only  one  I  could  procure  at  Suakin,  and  which 
had  been  condemned  by  the  military  authorities  as  unsound. 
He  could  stand  on  his  four  legs  and  move,  it  was  true,  so 
to  me  he  was  better  than  nothing;  but  in  an  unlooked-for 
emergency  such  as  this,  he  gave  me  grave  anxiety,  for,  not 
knowing  his  points,  I  was  always  speculating  as  to  what  the 
brute  would  do  next  as  I  struggled  through  the  human 
debris  of  the  broken  square.  Once  or  twice  as  I  lay  flat 
on  his  back  urging  the  animal  forward  with  my  spurs,  Arabs 
would  leap  out  at  me  ready  to  strike  with  spears  poised,  but 
apparently  refraining  from  risking  a  thrust  at  one  who 
was  moving  so  swiftly.  I  fired  my  revolver  at  any  dusky 
form  I  saw  emerging  from  the  smoke,  but  still  the  figures 
flittered.  Regulation  revolvers  are  not  much  use  against  the 
Fuzzy  Wuzzy.  He  seems  to  swallow  the  bullets  and  come 
up  smiling,  like  the  proverbial  conjuror.  ...  If  my  horse 


182     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

had  gone  lame  or  played  any  circus  tricks  at  that  moment, 
a  blanket  and  a  narrow  trench  would  have  been  my  shroud 
and  resting  place  that  night. " 

The  British  and  Kliedival  governments  now  decided 
to  send  a  mission  to  King  Johannes  of  Abyssinia,  to 
solicit  his  assistance  in  the  evacuation  of  the  Egyptian 
towns  on  the  Abyssinian  frontier  by  the  English 
garrisons  and  Christian  inhabitants,  then  threatened  by 
the  fanatical  followers  of  the  Mahdi.  There  was  a 
rush  of  correspondents  for  the  chance  to  penetrate  an 
almost  unknown  region  where  there  ought  to  be  found 
an  abundance  of  good  copy  and  the  material  for  many 
interesting  pictures.  Their  numbers  proved  their  un- 
doing, for  when  the  British  admiral  was  forced  to  fix 
limits  he  solved  the  perplexities  of  a  choice  by  refusing 
to  allow  any  to  accompany  the  expedition.  Villiers 
diplomatically  refrained  from  making  a  formal  applica- 
tion and  argued  that  he,  therefore,  had  not  been  denied 
permission.  Hu  rry ing  by  the  first  steamer  from  Suakin 
to  Massowah,  he  called  upon  the  governor,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  an  American  who  for  years  had  been  on  good 
terms  with  the  Khedive,  and  now  was  deputed  as  the 
Egyptian  envoy  for  Abyssinia.  Mason  Bey  listened 
to  the  story  of  the  artist  and  at  once  attached  Villiers 
to  his  staff.  As  a  result  of  this  bit  of  enterprise  the 
correspondent  was  made  **a  sort  of  under-secretary, " 
and  when  on  the  afternoon  of  April  7,  1884,  the  flag- 
ships and  forts  of  Massowah  thundered  their  salute 
as  the  British  admiral  landed  and  was  received  on  the 
palace  stairs  by  Mason  Bey,  here  was  Villiers  ready  to 
start  as  the  solitary  representative  of  the  press  upon  the 
long  climb  to  the  capital  of  King  Johannes. 

The  expedition  up  the  Nile  for  the  relief  of  Khar- 
toum  quickly   followed,   and   the   march   across   the 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  183 

desert  with  Stewart  and  the  battles  of  Abu  Klea  and 
Gubat.  When  General  Sir  Herbert  Stewart  was 
organizing  the  flying  column  of  two  thousand  to  make 
a  dash  across  the  desert  at  the  news  of  the  sore  straits 
of  Gordon  at  Khartoum,  Villiers  was  in  his  tent.  For 
that  whole  column  the  fight  at  Abu  Klea  was  what  the 
artist  called  "a  narrow  shave."  It  was  there  that 
"Fred"  Burnaby,  the  soldier  and  correspondent,  was 
killed.  That  night  the  force  pushed  on  for  the  Nile. 
Villiers  tells  how  Stewart  next  day  received  his  fatal 
wound,  while  "he  was  standing  on  a  commissariat  box, 
looking  through  his  glasses  at  the  encircling  swarm  of 
Dervishes  stealing  up  through  the  bush  from  Metem- 
mah."  The  artist  saw  the  general  fall  and  was  by  his 
side  at  once,  although  Frank  Rhodes,  the  brother  of 
Cecil  Rhodes,  was  the  first  to  minister  to  him  before 
the  surgeons  came. 

Some  weeks  later  when  the  army  commenced  to 
retire  under  the  orders  of  the  Gladstone  government, 
Villiers  took  steamer  from  Wady  Haifa  but  was  wrecked 
on  his  way  down  the  Nile.  He  was  obliged  to  make 
his  way  to  Dongola  "with  nothing  but  a  shirt,  a 
blanket,  and  a  pair  of  lawn-tennis  shoes."  Wandering 
about  the  streets  in  this  sorry  plight,  he  was  found  at 
length  by  a  Greek  who  had  formerly  been  his  servant. 
The  Greek  took  the  artist  to  some  of  his  compatriots 
who  were  baking  bread  for  the  troops,  and  in  their 
camp  Villiers  was  clothed  and  fed  for  many  days,  and 
finally  the  "merry,  careless  rogues"  got  him  a  camel 
and  escorted  him  on  a  journey  of  twelve  days  to  Haifa. 

In  1886  Villiers  was  back  in  the  Balkans  witnessing 
the  Servian-Bulgarian  fiasco  which  culminated  at 
Pirot.     King  Milan  crossed  the  frontier  only  to  be  out- 


184      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

flanked  by  the  Bulgars  and  compelled  to  retire.  When 
the  final  stand  was  made  ait  Pirot  the  Servians  were 
driven  back  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  and  "Prince 
Alexander  of  Battenberg  would  have  carried  out  his 
threat  of  eating  King  Milan's  breakfast  in  Nisch  the 
following    morning    but   for   Austrian    intervention." 

And  now  came  one  of  the  most  thrilling  dashes 
half  round  the  world  ever  undertaken  by  a  corre- 
spondent. A  despatch  from  his  paper  ordered  Villiers 
to  Burmah.  He  left  the  capital  of  Servia  one  morning 
for  Vienna  and  there  caught  the  express  for  Venice, 
where  he  boarded  the  P.  and  O.  liner  for  Alexandria, 
which  in  those  days  took  on  the  mails  at  Brindisi. 
In  the  Egyptian  city  he  had  time  to  drive  about  the 
forts  which  he  had  seen  bombarded  a  few  years  before, 
and  then  he  took  the  train  for  Suez,  where  he  found  the 
Bombay  mail  steamship  ready  to  start  on  her  voyage. 

Villiers  was  determined  to  catch  the  party  of  Lord 
Dufferin,  "who  had  been  deputed  by  the  British 
government  to  take  over  oflScially  the  Burmese  territory 
recently  annexed. "  But  at  Suez  the  hurrying  reporter 
was  told  that  the  Viceroy  would  have  a  four  days' 
start  and  could  not  be  overtaken.  He  determined  to 
chance  it,  trusting  to  the  luck  which  many  times 
before  had  come  to  his  aid.  At  Aden,  sure  enough, 
he  learned  that  Lord  Dufferin  had  been  delayed  by  a 
slight  illness  in  his  journey  down  country  to  Calcutta 
and  would  not  start  for  Burmah  at  the  time  first 
appointed. 

Reaching  Bombay  he  found  that  by  hurrying 
straight  on  he  would  be  able  to  reach  the  capital  on 
the  very  morning  of  the  departure  of  the  Viceroy  for 
Rangoon.  He  must  save  every  minute,  however,  so 
he  did  not  wait  for  the  passenger  boat,  but  made  such 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  185 

representations  to  the  accommodating  captain  of  his 
steamship  that  he  was  allowed  to  go  ashore  on  the  mail 
tender.  That  is,  Villiers  was  shot  down  the  mail 
chute  with  the  letters,  and  it  is  on  record  that  he  hit 
hard  when  he  landed! 

At  the  railway  station  he  sent  a  telegram  notifying 
the  Viceroy's  secretary  of  his  wish  to  go  on  with  the 
vice-regal  party,  and  caught  the  mail  express  for 
Calcutta  by  less  than  a  minute.  It  was  hot  traveling, 
indeed,  on  that  special;  he  had  left  the  Balkans  with 
the  thermometer  below  zero,  and  now  the  mercury 
was  registering  106  in  the  shade.  A  gigantic  Sikh 
in  the  gorgeous  livery  of  the  Viceroy's  establishment 
met  him  at  the  terminal  and  handed  him  a  big,  sealed 
letter.  It  conveyed  the  information  that  "His  Excel- 
lency was  unable  to  take  on  Mr.  Villiers  with  his  party, " 
that  "numerous  applications  had  been  refused,"  but 
that  "if  Mr.  Villiers  traveled  to  Rangoon  by  mail 
steamer,  on  arrival  at  that  port  His  Excellency  would 
do  all  he  could  to  assist  him. " 

And  on  the  back  of  the  note  the  perplexed  artist 
found  this  scrawl  in  pencil:  "There's  a  British  India 
leaving  an  hour  before  the  Viceroy  —  don't  miss  her. " 
Villiers  made  the  train  and  the  boat.  Within  the 
hour  with  his  kit  he  was  aboard  the  train  for  Diamond 
Harbor,  where  would  be  met  the  little  mail  steamer  for 
Rangoon.  Getting  aboard  the  mail  meant  that  pas- 
sengers with  their  baggage  were  carried  out  to  row  boats 
by  stalwart  sailors,  to  catch  ropes  thrown  from  a 
steamer  which  slowed  down  but  never  stopped.  Bag- 
gage and  passengers  safely  hauled  up,  the  boats  were 
ungrappled  and  the  steamer  made  full  speed  ahead 
again. 

Like  a  lightning  flash,  there  descended  upon  the 


186      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ship  as  she  crossed  the  Bay  of  Bengal  a  tremendous 
hurricane.  Said  Villiers:  "For  a  day  and  night  it  was 
touch-and-go  whether  we  were  going  under,  so  terrible 
was  the  sea  and  so  heavily  laden  was  the  ship.  From 
brilliant  sunshine  a  darkness  fell  upon  us  like  the 
blackest  of  nights;  tempestuous  seas  broke  over  us 
from  all  quarters,  and  for  hours  we  expected  funnel, 
masts,  spars,  and  all  deck  gear  to  be  swept  into  the 
boiling  ocean." 

But  the  same  storm  delayed  also  the  ship  aboard 
which  was  the  representative  of  the  Queen,  and  Villiers 
was  landed  shortly  after  Lord  Dufferin's  arrival  in 
Rangoon.  Now  the  artist  had  a  half-hour  with  the 
Viceroy,  who  kept  his  word  to  do  what  he  could  for  the 
news  man,  giving  him  permission  to  take  a  berth  in  the 
advance  guard-ship  of  the  vice-regal  flotilla  of  three 
vessels.  On  the  night  of  his  arrival  Villiers  took  a 
train  for  Prome,  where  the  railway  ended  on  the  banks 
of  the  Irrawady.  Thence  he  went  on  by  steamer  up 
the  shallow  and  uncertain  stream,  through  vast  forests 
of  teak  and  masses  of  impenetrable  jungle.  From 
time  to  time  glimpses  were  caught  of  the  gold-tipped 
spires  of  pagodas  and  often  the  tinkle  of  temple  bells 
was  heard  out  of  the  dense  thicket.  All  was  well,  when 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  the  steamship 
suddenly  stuck  midstream. 

The  engines  were  reversed,  but  the  paddles  merely 
churned  the  waters  to  no  purpose.  The  boat  was 
firmly  imbedded  in  a  sandbank.  The  steamer  of  the 
Viceroy  passed  and  the  rear  guard-ship  was  signalled 
to  take  the  place  ahead  which  had  belonged  to  the 
vessel  aboard  which  Villiers  was  standing  half-dazed, 
watching  the  more  fortunate  boats  disappear  round  a 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  187 

bend  in  the  river.  The  goal  was  almost  in  sight,  and 
he  was  to  lose  after  all! 

But  the  captain  came  to  the  rescue.  Villiers  was 
told  that  it  was  the  custom  on  that  river  for  all  ships 
to  anchor  at  sundown.  A  small  boat  was  offered  him 
with  a  crew  who  would  row  all  night  if  the  rupees  were 
numerous  enough  and  the  correspondent  was  firm 
enough.  The  river  was  a  "sullen,  inky  black"  when 
the  boat  was  pushed  off.  Villiers  was  making  himself 
as  comfortable  as  possible  when  a  new  calamity 
overtook  him. 

Water  was  coming  rapidly  through  the  bottom  of 
the  boat;  bailing  was  of  no  avail.  It  was  a  case  of 
foundering  or  getting  back  to  the  steamer,  which  they 
reached  when  water  was  actually  oozing  over  the 
gunwale.  They  were  saved  from  being  swamped 
only  by  three  of  the  crew  leaping  clear  and  clinging 
to  the  rigging  of  the  ship.  The  boat  had  been  hanging 
at  the  davits  for  months  and  had  so  warped  that  she 
was  "simply  a  sieve." 

And  then  the  captain  declared  that  Villiers  should 
have  his  gig.  Rupees  spelled  readiness  on  the  part  of 
the  oarsmen,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  artist  was  pushed 
off  once  more.  He  reached  the  ship  of  the  Viceroy 
just  at  dawn,  with  the  muzzle  of  his  revolver  nestling 
against  the  neck  of  the  Burman  who  acted  as  pilot. 
The  native  had  manifested  a  tendency  to  doze,  and  for 
the  boat  to  run  ashore  meant  exposure  to  pirates  and 
looters.  When  the  pilot  got  sulky  over  Villiers's 
remonstrances  he  kept  him  awake  only  by  threats. 

Lord  Dufferin  now  received  Villiers  as  a  guest  until 
the  landing  at  Mandalay.  The  correspondent  had 
been  successful  after  all,  having  journeyed  twelve 
thousand  miles,  and  he  reached  the  capital  of  King 


188      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Theebaw  a  good  twenty-four  hours  in  advance  of  the 
Queen's  mails.  Next  morning  came  the  great  cere- 
mony at  the  palace. 

Now  this  world-wanderer  spent  some  years  in 
lecturing  and  he  "covered"  the  Chicago  Exposition  of 
1893,  going  on  the  war  path  once  more  when  China 
and  Japan  were  at  odds  in  1894.  Having  again  toured 
the  globe  as  a  lecturer  and  sketched  the  coronation 
of  the  Czar  in  1896,  he  joined  the  Greek  army  in  the 
little  war  with  Turkey  in  1897,  using  the  bicycle  and 
experimenting  with  the  cinematograph  camera.  Then 
having  visited  Crete,  he  joined  the  expeditionary  force 
for  the  Soudan  and  found  himself  in  familiar  territory 
on  the  Nile. 

Through  all  those  campaigns  Villiers  made  his  way, 
but  there  was  not  so  much  of  color  or  incident  in  these 
later  expeditions  for  the  reconquest  of  the  Soudan. 
The  host  of  war  specials  who  went  out  to  see  the  last 
of  Mahdism  found  little  comparatively  to  maKe  their 
narratives  picturesque  in  the  machine-like  precision 
with  which  war  was  organized  and  conducted  by  the  Sir- 
dar, nor  were  the  reporters  helped  any  at  headquarters 
in  getting  the  news.  Occasionally  in  very  desperation 
they  would  concoct  an  outrageous  tale,  and  go  with  it 
to  the  censor,  gravely  simulating  faith  in  it  and  the 
intention  of  wiring  it  to  London.  Then  sometimes  the 
authorities  would  deny  so  vehemently  that  they  would 
get  on  the  track  of  some  real  item  of  importance  of 
which  they  had  had  no  inkling  whatever.  "But 
gratuitously,"  says  Villiers,"  not  a  single  piece  of  news 
of  any  importance  was  ever  afforded  to  the  press." 
The  achievement  in  that  campaign  in  which  he  had 
most  satisfaction  was  the  taking  of  a  bicycle  to  Omdur- 
man.    The  natives  used  to  think  the  machine  was  alive. 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  189 

and  when  he  blew  a  loud  blast  with  the  trumpet 
attached  to  the  handle  bars  they  would  flee  in  terror. 

Late  in  1895  Villiers  was  in  South  Africa,  where  he 
found  his  friend,  Frank  Rhodes,  formerly  of  the  staff 
of  General  Sir  Herbert  Stewart,  from  whom  he  received 
a  letter  to  Cecil  Rhodes.  Thus  it  came  about 
that  Christmas  Eve  was  passed  by  the  artist  as  a  guest 
of  Cecil  Rhodes  at  the  old  Dutch  residence  at  Groote 
Schuur.  He  dined  sitting  between  Rhodes  and  Alfred 
Beit,  and  they  amazed  him  by  breaking  open  ordinary 
envelopes  and  spilling  from  them  scores  of  diamonds 
which  "capered  about  among  the  plates  of  the  guests." 
The  stones  had  just  arrived  from  Amsterdam,  where 
they  had  been  sent  to  be  cut.  Rhodes  took  a  liking 
to  the  artist  and,  through  his  secretary,  almost  insisted 
that  he  forego  his  intention  to  sail  from  Cape  Town  the 
next  day.  The  times  were  too  stirring,  he  was  assured, 
for  him  to  leave  South  Africa  just  at  that  time.  Villiers 
waited  until  the  last  moment,  but  no  special  message 
came,  and,  marvelling  a  little,  the  artist  went  aboard 
the  steamer.  Then  at  Madeira,  when  the  telegrams 
with  the  news  of  the  world  were  brought  aboard,  there 
was  one  which  Villiers  says  "sent  a  thrill  through  every 
soul  on  the  ship." 

This  was  the  despatch  which  curtly  described 
Jameson's  raid  into  the  Transvaal.  And  Villiers 
often  declared  afterwards:  "Then  I  knew  that  I  had 
made  one  of  the  mistakes  of  my  life;  I  ought  to  have 
remained. " 

When  the  Boer  War  was  in  progress  the  correspond- 
ent with  Mrs.  Villiers  visited  Lady  Randolph  Churchill, 
who  then  was  in  charge  of  the  American  hospital  ship 
Maine,  The  vessel  was  tied  up  at  the  quay  in  Durban. 
Lady  Churchill's  face  wore  a  puzzled  look  as  she  read 


190     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  names  upon  the  cards.  "Why,"  she  said,  "the 
Mr.  Villiers  I  once  knew  is  dead.  He  was  decapitated 
in  a  recent  campaign.**  Whereupon  the  artist  was 
able  to  assure  her  that  this  story  was  "one  of  the 
Httle  mistakes  that  get  into  the  papers, "  and  but  the 
latest  of  the  series  of  erroneous  obituary  reports  to 
which  he  had  been  subjected  since  the  days  when 
Forbes  had  mourned  him  in  the  Balkans. 

Once  on  shipboard  Villiers  had  made  a  picture  of 
Lady  Randolph,  who  was  a  good  shot,  practicing, 
with  some  passengers  and  Japanese  officers,  firing  at 
empty  bottles  slung  over  the  stern  of  the  vessel.  Some 
years  later  when  lecturing  in  the  University  Club  in 
New  York  City  he  threw  that  portrait  on  his  screen, 
when  instantly  the  whole  room  stood  up  and  cheered, 
to  the  surprise  of  the  lecturer,  who  learned  later  that 
he  had  been  speaking  in  the  very  room  in  which  Lady 
Randolph  had  appeared  in  private  theatricals,  for  the 
club  house  had  formerly  belonged  to  her  father. 

The  Japanese-Chinese  War  was  the  most  unsatis- 
factory of  all  the  campaigns  of  this  veteran  special; 
there  was  scarcely  any  action  and  what  fighting  there 
was  was  one-sided.  He  was  back  at  Port  Arthur  in 
the  great  war  between  the  Mikado  and  the  Czar. 
"We  were  ten  together,'"  he  states,  "when  we  were  set 
down  on  the  quay  at  Dalny  in  August,  1904. "  Among 
the  ten  were  the  specials  for  the  Daily  Mail,  the  Illus- 
trated London  News,  the  Daily  Telegraph,  the  San  Fran- 
cisco Chronicle  and  the  Associated  Press.  With  James 
Ricalton  and  the  Chronicle's  correspondent,  Richard 
Barry,  Villiers  spent  some  time  before  the  fortress  with 
the  army  of  investiture.  He  says  that  Barry  left  his 
office  in  such  a  hurry  that  he  brought  away  nothing 
save  what  he  stood  in,  together  with  a  note-book  and 


FREDERIC  VILLIERS  191 

some  pencils.  Day  after  day  Villiers  made  his  observa- 
tions from  the  top  of  an  almost  perpendicular  ridge, 
which  he  managed  somehow  to  climb;  often  he  slept 
there.  When  at  length  the  time  came  for  him  to  leave 
he  went  with  regret,  declaring  that  he  had  never  been 
treated  with  greater  consideration  and  kindness  by 
all  ranks  of  an  army  in  the  field  than  by  the  Third 
Imperial  Army  of  Japan. 

Today  Villiers  belongs  both  to  the  old  school  and 
the  new  school  of  specials.  He  sees  clearly  that  the  days 
of  merely  reckless  valor  in  the  gathering  of  war  news 
have  gone  by,  and  that  the  correspondent  of  the  future 
will  have  greater  difiiculty  in  getting  his  facts,  and  per- 
haps less  opportunity  for  stirring  and  brilliant  narrative 
and  striking  sketches.  But  Villiers  is  fond  of  his 
exhilarating  profession,  and  delights  in  the  perils  and 
even  in  the  hardships  that  must  be  endured  on  the  war- 
path. The  little  war  between  the  Spanish  and  the 
Riff  tribesmen  called  him  in  1910,  and  in  the  last 
great  struggle  in  the  Balkans  he  did  his  stint  of  press 
work.  Everywhere  he  goes  he  makes  friends,  whether 
he  goes  to  sketch,  to  lecture,  or  merely  for  social 
purposes.  He  seems  to  have  the  secret  of  youth. 
And  not  only  is  he  liked;  he  also  is  respected,  for, 
believing  absolutely  in  the  moral  value  of  publicity, 
he  has  stood  imiformly  in  his  work  for  the  highest 
standards  of  humanity  and  truth-telling.  Some  day 
there  will  be  a  war  without  him,  and  very  strange  it 
will  seem  and  very  greatly  will  he  be  missed. 


CHAPTER  VI 
BENNET  BURLEIGH 

"  I  first  met  him  on  the  top  of  a  kopje,  when  he  handed  me  his  card  in 
the  middle  of  a  battle.  He  impressed  me  much.  He  suggests  his  name— 
a  big,  strong,  keen  feUow,  with  a  powerful  voice,  a  man  who  looks  in 
perfect  health.  He  seemed  to  have  great  habits  and  to  know  everybody. 
He  never  hesitated  to  look  through  Lord  Roberts's  telescope,  or  to  share  a 
camp-stool  with  General  Pole-Carew." 

—  Mortimer  Menpes. 

"  Bennet  Burleigh,  who  had  fought  for  the  independence  of  the  South 
during  the  Civil  War  in  America,  bluff  and  kindly,  with  a  heart  too  big 
for  his  body,  bursting  with  kindness  and  good  nature,  endowed  with 
remarkable  energy  and  pluck,  and  with  as  much  knowledge  of  soldiering  as 
most  generals,  was  a  striking  figure." 

— Melton  Prim. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  war  between  the  States, 
there  appeared  one  day  at  Richmond,  the  capital  of 
the  Confederacy,  a  young  Scotchman  in  whose  pockets 
were  the  plans  for  a  submarine  battery  and  the  sketches 
for  a  torpedo  boat.  The  brown-haired,  blue-eyed, 
fair-faced  adventurer  was  regarded  with  suspicion  by 
the  authorities,  and  had  to  spend  several  weeks  in  the 
city's  Bastile,  Castle  Thunder.  After  a  time,  however, 
this  soldier  of  fortune  helped  to  fasten  one  of  his  tor- 
pedoes to  the  side  of  a  Union  vessel,  but  the  fuse  failed 
to  ignite,  and  later  the  captured  device  was  exhibited 
in  New  York.  He  then  put  on  the  butternut  uniform 
and  fought  in  several  of  the  important  actions  of  the 
war,  engaging  with  John  Yates  Beall,  a  graduate  of 
the  University  of  Virginia,  in  privateering  enterprises, 
and  twice  having  the  sentence  of  death  pronounced 
upon  him.     In  Chesapeake  Bay  he  planned  and  exe- 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  193 

cuted  the  capture  of  a  Federal  steamer,  whose  flag  is 
now  in  the  public  library  of  Richmond.  For  some 
time  he  was  ill  with  malarial  fever  in  the  Virginia 
city,  and  there  he  undertook  his  first  literary  work 
by  writing  for  The  Southern  Illustrated  News,  and  made 
an  appearance  upon  the  stage  in  D'Orsay  Ogden's 
play  called  "The  Guerilla."  Having  undertaken  a 
raid  within  the  Union  lines,  he  was  surprised  while 
tearing  down  telegraph  wires  to  prevent  the  trans- 
mission of  Northern  messages.  The  attacking  force 
was  the  Thirty-sixth  United  States  Colored  Infantry, 
and  when  but  three  of  the  raiders  were  left  standing 
their  leader  was  forced  to  surrender.  He  was  wounded, 
and  the  papers  upon  his  person  exposed  him  to  the 
charge  of  being  a  spy.  With  the  penalty  of  the  spy 
overhanging  him  he  was  imprisoned  in  a  dreary  locality 
at  Fort  Delaware,  forty  miles  below  Philadelphia. 

To  this  day  there  are  Confederate  soldiers  who 
remember  "Captain  Bennet  G.  Burley."  The 
famous  correspondent  of  the  Daily  Telegraph  got  his 
first  experience  of  war  in  the  conflict  fifty  years  ago 
in  America.  He  is  known  everywhere  now  as  the 
special  who  would  have  been  awarded  the  Victoria 
Cross  for  his  exploits  in  the  Soudan,  had  it  been  possible 
for  a  "camp  follower"  to  win  that  coveted  distinction; 
as  the  reporter  who  scored  the  great  "  scoop  "  after  Tel 
el  Kebir;  as  the  "civilian"  to  whom  the  Black  Watch 
gave  much  of  the  credit  for  the  saving  of  the  broken 
square  at  Tamai;  as  the  audacious  correspondent  who 
flagged  a  South  African  train  to  get  an  interview, 
and  the  clever  strategist  who  "put  over  a  beat"  by 
the  use  of  the  Prayer  Book;  and  no  one  really  knows 
how  many  other  feats  are  to  be  placed  to  his  account, 
nor,  to  vary  the  inventory  of  his  exploits  a  little,  just 


194      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

how  many  times  he  delighted  himself  and  his 
comrades  by  his  ability  to  cook  a  good  meat  pie  in  a 
tin  wash  basin  when  on  the  firing  line. 

He  had  some  difficulty  inducing  his  family  to  permit 
him  to  leave  the  home  in  Glasgow  for  the  States.  His 
father  was  a  master  mechanic,  and  the  devices  which 
the  adventurous  youth  carried  across  the  ocean  were 
his  father's  inventions.  At  Fort  Delaware  the  prisoner 
found  there  was  a  sewer  under  his  cell,  and  that  the 
water  came  up  to  the  sleepers  on  which  the  floor  rested. 
He  managed  to  pry  up  several  planks  and  with  five 
others  to  wriggle  through  the  opening.  For  a  hundred 
and  twenty-five  yards  they  crawled  in  the  sewer, 
diving  under  the  sleepers  as  they  came  to  them,  their 
situation  made  almost  desperate  by  the  river's  tide. 
At  the  mouth  of  the  sewer  two  of  his  companions  were 
captured;  two  others  were  drowned  in  the  river; 
Burleigh  himself  swam  five  hours  in  the  darkness  and 
finally  was  picked  up  by  a  vessel  whose  commander 
professed  to  believe  his  tale  of  an  upset  while  fishing. 
Making  his  way  to  Canada  he  again  fell  in  with  Beall 
and  they  plotted  one  of  the  most  audacious  enterprises 
of  the  war. 

In  the  midst  of  the  Russo-Japanese  war  Justice 
Brown  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  declared 
himself  to  be  watching  the  news  from  Manchuria  for 
some  "wild  adventure"  of  Bennet  Burleigh,  in  whom 
he  was  interested  because  forty  years  before  he  had 
secured  his  extradition  from  Canada.  This  was  after 
the  failure  of  the  attempt  of  Beall  and  Burleigh  to 
liberate  the  Southern  soldiers  held  at  Johnson's  Island, 
near  Sandusky,  in  Lake  Erie,  as  prisoners  of  war. 
The  2000  Confederates  were  quartered  in  a  stock- 
ade of  fifteen  acres,  guarded  by  block  houses.    The 


Copyriyhl  by  Maclure,  Macdouald  &  Co.,  Glasgow 
BENNET   BURLEIGH 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  195 

plotters  intended  to  enter  Sandusky  Bay  and  attack 
there  the  only  Union  war  vessel  in  the  neighborhood 
which  they  knew  to  be  well  provisioned.  They  took 
passage  in  a  small  steamer  out  of  Detroit,  bringing  with 
them  an  old  trunk  bound  with  ropes  which  contained 
their  armament  of  hatchets  and  revolvers.  Burleigh 
on  the  bridge  chatted  affably  with  the  captain  until 
the  right  moment  came  for  him  to  hold  a  revolver 
to  the  oflScer's  head  and  demand  the  surrender  of  the 
ship.  At  Middle  Bass  Island  a  larger  steamer  came 
alongside  them  with  twenty-five  unarmed  Union 
soldiers  on  her  decks.  A  dozen  shots  and  they  were 
masters  of  that  vessel  also.  Passengers  and  crews 
were  put  ashore,  the  two  boats  were  lashed  abreast,  and 
five  miles  out  the  larger  was  scuttled  and  cast  adrift. 
But  now,  just  at  the  crisis  of  their  venture,  a  messenger 
from  Canada  failed  them,  and  all  in  the  party  weakened 
but  Beall,  Burleigh  and  two  others.  Even  before  they 
started  on  their  dangerous  enterprise  their  plans  had 
been  betrayed  by  a  professed  Confederate  refugee 
in  Canada. 

It  was  necessary  to  abandon  their  boat  on  the 
Canadian  shore  and  discreetly  disappear.  Rewards 
were  placed  upon  their  heads;  their  crime  was  held 
to  be  piracy.  Beall  was  apprehended  and  hanged 
on  Governor's  Island  in  New  York  Bay.  The  reward 
for  Burleigh's  capture  was  large  and  eventually  he 
was  taken  in  Canada.  On  a  technical  charge  of  robbery 
his  extradition  was  ordered,  but  the  United  States 
did  not  then  venture  on  the  more  serious  charge  because 
it  was  a  question  if  piracy  could  be  committed  on  Lake 
Erie.  In  the  standard  works  upon  the  legal  issues  of 
extradition  there  is  much  space  given  to  the  case  of 
young  Burleigh.     He  was  taken  to  Detroit,  where  he 


196     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

was  imprisoned  for  six  months,  and  then  to  Port 
^  CHnton,  Ohio,  where  he  was  held  for  three  months. 
During  this  period  a  question  of  international  law  was 
under  discussion.  The  father  in  Glasgow  had  sought 
British  intervention.  Several  times  the  young  man's 
life  was  in  jeopardy.  Finally  there  was  a  trial  and 
the  jury  disagreed.  At  last  Burleigh  settled  matters 
in  his  own  way  —  he  became  friends  with  the  sheriff ; 
his  company  was  agreeable  to  the  people  of  the  town; 
his  mail  was  handed  to  him  through  a  jail  window, 
saving  the  sheriff  the  possible  embarrassment  of  examin- 
ing the  letters  of  his  rather  compromising  friend.  One 
day  a  file  came  through  the  window  in  a  pie.  Helped 
from  the  outside,  this  British  subject  escaped  to  Detroit 
and  across  the  river  to  Canada.  Everybody  was  glad 
he  got  off,  and  when  before  long  the  war  ended,  no 
one  pushed  to  a  conclusion  the  adjudication  of  the  legal 
points  in  his  case,  which,  as  a  result,  is  still  open. 
Justice  Brown  related  the  story  in  detail  a  few  years 
ago,  and  said  that  Burleigh  remembered  the  sheriff 
and  sent  him  money  after  a  time,  and  that  other 
residents  of  the  neighborhood  were  recipients  of  tokens 
of  the  appreciation  of  the  bold  young  Scotchman. 

The  war  was  over,  and  Burleigh  made  his  way  to 
Texas,  where  he  is  supposed  to  have  done  his  first  real 
journalistic  work  as  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Houston 
Telegraph,  Then  for  some  years  he  did  newspaper 
work  in  Brooklyn,  and  at  least  one  celebrated  trial 
was  assigned  to  him.  But  his  love  of  war  was  ingrained. 
His  massive  figure,  remarkable  powers  of  endurance, 
and  zest  for  dangerous  adventure,  all  indicated  the 
kind  of  life  which  would  make  the  strongest  appeal 
to  him.  He  also  had  remarkable  facility  for  picking 
up  dialects  and  languages.     About  1878,  he  returned 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  197 

to  England,  and  in  1881,  he  found  his  real  vocation 
in  Egypt,  beginning  his  work  as  a  war  correspondent 
when  he  must  have  been  nearly  forty  years  old,  although 
he  was  never  willing  to  make  very  definite  statements 
as  to  his  age.  At  the  bombardment  of  Alexandria 
he  was  the  correspondent  of  the  Central  News.  The 
managing  editor  of  the  Daily  Telegraph,  Mr.  John  M. 
Le  Sage,  was  sent  to  Egypt  to  arrange  for  the  strengthen- 
ing of  the  paper's  staff  there,  and  upon  his  representa- 
tions of  the  character  and  work  of  Burleigh  the  paper 
acquired  the  famous  correspondent.  Burleigh  was  con- 
nected continuously  with  the  paper  from  early  in  1882 
until  his  retirement  from  active  duty  at  the  end  of  1913. 

In  1898,  Bennet  Burleigh  was  able  to  say:  "  I  have 
been  an  eye-witness  during  the  course  of  all  the  cam- 
paigns in  the  Soudan  in  which  British  troops  have 
been  employed.  .  .  .  From  the  beginning  to  the  death 
of  Mahdism  I  have  followed  British  and  Egyptian 
troops  into  action  against  the  dervishes.  I  knew 
General  Hicks,  but  had  the  good-fortune  to  miss 
accompanying  his  ill-fated  expedition." 

In  the  memorable  night  march  and  the  surprise 
which  terminated  the  power  of  Arabi  Pasha,  Burleigh 
had  a  share  and  the  despatches  which  he  sent  to  his 
paper  gave  London  the  first  news  of  those  events. 

That  night  of  September  12  was  moonless  and  the 
desert  was  wrapped  in  a  grey  gloom  which  the  eye 
could  not  pierce.  Due  west  from  the  camp  of  Sir 
Garnet  Wolseley  a  line  of  engineer  telegraph  posts 
had  been  erected  for  a  half-mile  or  more.  As  the 
advance,  or  guiding  column,  moved  away  from  the 
camp,  these  posts  would  start  them  in  the  right  direc- 
tion. At  the  end  they  would  swing  clear  and  march 
by  the  stars.    The  total  distance  to  Arabi's  entrench- 


198      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ments  was  six  miles.  At  one-thirty  in  the  morning 
the  column  started  and  moved  forward  for  less  than 
an  hour,  as  a  sort  of  experimental  march.  The  plan 
worked  marvellously  well.  The  stars  were  brilliant. 
A  naval  officer  steered  the  army  in  close  formation 
with  accuracy;  there  was  no  confusion.  After  a  brief 
rest  the  march  was  resumed.  The  night  now  was 
very  dark  and  the  stars  which  had  been  used  for 
guidance  a  few  hours  before  were  below  the  horizon. 
But  the  pole  star  was  always  visible  and  furnished  a 
fixed  point  upon  the  celestial  chart.  For  an  hour 
absolute  silence  reigned.  During  that  final  hour  the 
tension  became  very  severe;  guiding  stars  dropped 
below  the  horizon  one  by  one  and  others  higher  in  the 
heavens  had  to  be  selected.  These  at  times  were 
covered  by  clouds,  but  the  pole  star  over  the  right 
shoulder  and  the  star  in  front  for  which  the  column 
was  aimed,  were  never  blotted  from  sight  at  the  same 
time. 

What  might  easily  have  been  an  awful  catastrophe 
was  averted  by  the  good  discipline  of  the  force.  An 
order  for  a  few  minutes  halt  was  issued.  At  once 
the  centre  companies  stopped,  but  the  order  required 
a  little  time  to  reach  the  outermost  companies  on  the 
flanks,  and  they  continued  to  advance,  always  keeping 
in  touch  with  the  men  next  in  toward  the  centre. 
When  all  were  halted,  therefore,  the  force  lay  on  the 
desert  almost  in  a  half-circle,  and  as  the  word  to 
start  was  given  again  the  companies  on  the  flanks 
moved  forward  and  found  themselves  face  to  face. 
In  the  dim  fight  a  single  false  move  might  have  pre- 
precipitated  terrible  consequences.  At  precisely  the 
instant  desired  the  camp  of  the  unsuspecting  Egyptians 
was  reached.     A  single  shot  broke  the  dead  silence. 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  199 

Five  minutes  after  the  firing  of  that  shot,  the  dawn  had 
begun  and  after  five  more  minutes  the  entire  landscape 
was  revealed,  for  the  desert  dawn  is  very  short. 

The  instant  the  battle  was  over  Burleigh  began 
a  rapid  survey  of  the  trenches,  and  in  a  short  time 
acquired  a  comprehensive  notion  of  the  disposition  of 
the  troops  and  the  nature  of  the  ground  over  which 
they  had  fought.  Without  losing  a  minute  he  began 
a  hard  ride  to  Kassassin  across  the  desert,  where  he 
knew  he  could  command  a  telegraph  wire.  Over  this 
he  sent  the  first  intimation  of  the  battle  which  London 
received,  following  it  up  with  a  long  account  of  the 
action.  The  message  off,  he  remounted  and  made 
all  speed  back  to  the  battleground,  where  he  learned 
that  the  cavalry  brigade  had  been  ordered  to  Cairo. 
He  rode  on  alone  with  such  speed  that  he  reached  the 
city  even  before  the  advanced  guard,  finding  Arabi 
a  prisoner  and  the  war  at  an  end. 

He  hurried  to  the  wire,  but  it  was  impossible  to  send 
a  despatch  by  the  native  operators.  He  therefore 
borrowed  a  horse  and  started  again  for  Kassassin. 
Through  the  night  he  rode,  Egyptian  soldiers  occasion- 
ally firing  upon  him,  and  Arabian  robbers  once  or 
twice  attempting  his  capture,  and  when  at  length 
with  ten  miles  of  desert  between  him  and  the  end  of 
the  wire  his  horse  broke  down,  he  tramped  the  balance 
of  the  distance  on  foot,  and  wrote  and  sent  away  another 
important  despatch. 

Thus  in  the  course  of  two  days  he  had  ridden  one 
hundred  and  forty  miles,  most  of  the  time  through 
hostile  and  desert  country,  and  during  this  period  he 
had  gone  entirely  without  sleep.  It  was  an  exploit 
entirely  worthy  of  Archibald  Forbes  and  it  scored  the 


200     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

greatest  beat  of  the  time.  Bennet  Burleigh  had 
"  broken  into  the  game  "  with  a  vengeance. 

Within  a  few  years  Burleigh  revisited  the  land  of 
the  Nile  several  times.  He  was  with  the  small  army 
commanded  by  General  Sir  Gerald  Graham  intended 
to  relieve  the  Egyptian  garrison  beleaguered  by 
Osman  Digna  at  Tokar.  The  enemy  had  gained  three 
successive  victories  and  Graham  had  to  face  bold 
and  confident  men.  On  February  15,  1883,  the  special 
left  London  with  a  party  of  British  officers  and  hurried 
at  desperate  speed  to  overtake  Sir  Redvers  BuUer, 
who  had  started  three  days  before  to  aid  Graham. 

The  train  from  Calais  brought  Burleigh  to  Brindisi 
on  the  night  of  the  second  day  from  London.  He 
wired  Port  Said  for  a  steam  launch  to  meet  him  on 
the  arrival  of  his  steamer  and  take  him  through  the 
Suez  Canal.  In  the  early  evening  of  the  fourth  day 
the  little  launch  came  alongside  the  ship  before  she 
lost  way  entirely,  and  with  four  officers,  who  were 
equally  anxious,  Burleigh  hurried  aboard,  bag  and 
baggage.  At  midnight  on  Lake  Timsah  they  were 
struck  by  a  terrific  squall  and  the  Maltese  crew 
fastened  their  launch  to  one  of  the  beacon  boats. 
After  a  time  they  were  forced  to  start  ahead  in  the 
thick  darkness,  and,  although  they  went  aground  twice, 
they  finally  found  the  entrance  to  the  canal  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  lake.  They  dreaded  lest  the  Egyp- 
tian mail  steamer  for  Suakin  should  leave  Suez  before 
their  arrival  in  the  morning.  From  each  of  two  way- 
stations  they  wired  for  the  boat  to  be  held,  but  they 
arrived  in  time  and  found  that  a  large  number  of  refu- 
gees from  the  army  of  Baker  Pasha  had  been  brought 
by  the  vessel  from  Suakin  and  that  the  departure  had 
been  delayed  for  a  couple  of  days.     Luckily^  however^ 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  201 

Buller  had  also  been  retarded  and  his  boat  had  only 
left  the  previous  evening.  They  waited  not  upon 
ceremony  but  without  any  invitation  piled  aboard  a 
hired  transport  which  was  to  sail  that  night.  The 
skipper  looked  unutterable  things  until  he  learned 
that  his  unexpected  passengers  were  up  to  anything, 
even  to  sleeping  on  deck,  when  he  smiled  once  more. 
The  decks  were  loaded  with  stores  and  the  hold  was 
packed  with  mules.  As  they  made  their  way  inside 
the  reef  at  Suakin  a  steam  launch  came  out  and 
a  naval  lieutenant  told  them  that  BuUer's  vessel  was 
not  in  yet  and  that  no  battle  had  been  fought.  With 
the  lieutenant  for  a  pilot  they  headed  full  steam  inside 
the  reefs  for  Trinikat,  where  they  arrived  in  five  hours 
at  two  on  the  afternoon  of  February  26,  eleven  days 
from  London,  and  in  good  time  for  "the  fun." 

Burleigh  procured  the  first  requisite  of  the  corre- 
spondent, a  pass  properly  signed  and  authenticated. 
Next  he  investigated  the  telegraphic  facilities  and 
found  that  they  were  very  unsatisfactory;  all  despatches 
had  to  go  to  Suakin,  the  nearest  station,  and  there 
was  but  one  steamer  a  day  to  that  port,  leaving  always 
on  or  before  two  in  the  afternoon.  Then  he  was  off 
with  the  troops  for  Fort  Baker.  That  was  a  march 
in  the  mud,  and  Burleigh  describes  the  droll  spectacle 
of  the  men  wading  through  water  and  slush  with  not 
only  their  shoes  and  stockings  dangling  about  their 
necks  but  their  kilts  or  trousers  as  well. 

At  eleven  that  night  Burleigh  stretched  out  booted 
and  spurred  and  covered  with  a  blanket,  ready  for  the 
bugle  call  for  the  battle  of  El  Teb.  In  the  square  were 
the  Gordon  Highlanders  and  the  Black  Watch,  with  two 
other  regiments,  and  a  naval  brigade  with  cannon  at 
the  corners,  making  more  than  3000  men  in  all.     Thus 


202     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

formed  they  began  their  march  at  five  in  the  morning. 
The  fighting  was  severe,  at  times  "almost  a  melee  of 
bayonets  against  spears."  A  few  of  the  Arabs  got 
within  five  yards  of  the  square,  but  they  were  forced 
back  toward  the  ten  mud-holes  known  as  the  wells  of 
Teb,  where  they  made  their  last  stand  that  day. 

Again  Burleigh  was  first  with  the  news.  He  was 
driven  almost  to  distraction  by  the  slowness  of  a  censor 
who  was  cutting  down  his  estimates  of  the  wounded 
and  slain,  which  the  special  had  already  understated. 
At  last  he  got  his  vise  and  was  off  on  the  gallop  for 
Trinikat,  eight  miles  away,  coming  in  with  the  first 
news  of  the  action.  But  the  man  on  whom  he  depended 
for  the  forwarding  of  despatches  failed  him  and  there 
were  anxious  hours  of  waiting.  At  length  he  devised 
a  new  scheme,  scribbled  his  despatch  once  more  in 
long  hand,  intending  by  duplication  to  lessen  the 
chances  of  miscarriage,  and  hired  a  hardy  and  trusty 
Arab  runner  to  make  the  trip  to  Suakin.  No  steamer 
would  sail  from  Trinikat  for  Suakin  until  the  official 
despatches  were  ready,  which  would  be  early  the  follow- 
ing morning.  At  eight  in  the  evening  the  runner  was 
off,  with  plenty  of  hard  money  and  a  supply  of  pass- 
ports, and  the  promise  of  additional  rewards  if  he  was 
in  Suakin  by  the  following  dawn.  Burleigh  rode 
some  distance  with  him,  and  he  was  chased  by  Egyp- 
tians during  the  night,  but  before  seven  he  was  at  the 
telegraph  offices  at  Suakin.  There  the  senior  naval 
officer  read  the  message  and  forwarded  to  London  a 
brief  abstract  of  its  contents,  beginning  with  the 
statement  that  a  "native  messenger  had  arrived  with 
news  of  the  army  from  the  correspondent  of  the  Daily 
Telegraph"  and  ending  with  the  explanation  that 
"official  confirmation  is  expected  by  steamer."    Thus 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  203 

Burleigh's  paper  was  able  to  give  the  news  to  the  world 
in  advance  of  all  others. 

Two  natives  hired  as  runners,  and  a  servant  em- 
ployed as  a  special  express,  went  with  Burleigh  when 
the  advance  against  the  enemy  was  resumed.  From 
time  to  time  the  press  man  rode  away  by  himself  in 
the  desert,  and  he  has  described  his  outfit  for  such 
ventures.  He  wore  a  dark  blue  suit,  crammed  his 
pockets  with  biscuits,  took  care  to  be  provided  with 
the  inevitable  tooth-brush  and  carbolic  soap,  jammed 
a  towel  into  his  holster,  and  carried  as  a  matter  of  course 
a  water  bottle,  a  pair  of  field  glasses  and  an  army 
revolver.  When  servants  were  with  him  he  would 
scoop  a  hole  in  the  loose  earth,  lay  his  waterproof 
sheet  therein,  and  get  his  regular  bath  in  the  water 
poured  into  the  sheet  from  the  skins  carried  by  his 
men. 

Now  came  the  battle  of  Tamai,  in  which  this 
special  rendered  a  real  service  to  the  arms  of  England. 
The  troops  slept  on  a  waterless  plain,  within  an  en- 
closure made  of  mimosa  bushes.  These  were  cut 
before  all  the  four  faces  of  the  square,  leaving  an  open 
space  of  almost  a  hundred  yards  across  which  the  enemy 
would  be  in  full  view  if  they  undertook  to  rush  the 
camp.  Within  the  square  of  thickly-piled  bushes  the 
men  lay  down  two  deep  with  the  officers  in  the  rear, 
and  sentinels  patrolling  between  the  hedge  and  the 
sleepers.  It  was  a  bright  moonlighted  night  and 
Burleigh  was  able  to  write  descriptive  passages  without 
recourse  to  artificial  light. 

This  was  the  battle  of  the  broken  square  of  Kipling's 
stirring  stanzas.  In  moving  terms  the  correspondent, 
who  also  was  one  of  the  historians  of  that  campaign, 
told   how  the   enemy  crept   up   under   the  cover   of 


204      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  smoke  and  the  sloping  ground,  how  hundreds 
of  Arabs  came  bounding  over  the  rocks  spear  and  sword 
in  hand,  how  half  their  number  were  shot  down  but 
forty  or  more  were  able  to  throw  themselves  on  the 
British  bayonets,  when  quick  as  lightning  the  rush 
increased  and  in  an  instant  as  it  seemed  the  Sixty- 
fifth  gave  way  and  began  to  fall  back.  He  related 
how  the  marines  were  thrown  into  disorder  and  back 
everybody  was  borne  in  a  confused  mass,  how  the 
general  and  his  staff  tried  to  rally  the  troops,  how 
"even  the  Forty-second"  was  thrown  into  confusion  by 
the  general  disarrangement  of  formations,  and  how  the 
machine  guns  had  to  be  abandoned,  although  the 
Bluejackets  managed  to  remove  the  sights  and  tem- 
porarily disable  the  pieces.  The  forces  were  borne 
back  about  eight  hundred  yards. 

I  have  talked  at  length  about  this  battle  with  one 
of  the  men  of  the  Black  Watch,  the  Forty-second 
Royal  Highlanders,  and  he,  expressing,  he  declares, 
the  sentiments  of  the  entire  regiment,  says  that  Bur- 
leigh was  one  of  the  real  heroes  of  the  day.  The 
correspondent  was  with  the  commander  of  the  Black 
Watch  when  the  Arabs  were  charging  to  within  five 
yards  of  their  line.  He  glanced  to  the  right  and 
"ejaculated  in  language  more  forcible  than  choice" 
that  the  Sixty-fifth  were  giving  way.  At  once  he 
galloped  to  their  side  of  the  square.  The  Arabs 
were  bounding  like  deer  through  the  thick  smoke, 
"with  hair  on  end,  eyes  gleaming,  white  teeth  shining," 
looking  like  "infuriated  demons  bounding  upon  the 
soldiers  like  figures  in  a  shadow  pantomime."  They 
were  all  over  that  side  and  corner  of  the  square,  and 
in  an  instant  were  "at  the  guns  and  among  the  men, 
thrusting,  cutting,  stabbing,  with  desperate  energy." 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  205 

They  had  found  a  small  opening  where  the  square  was 
not  perfectly  joined,  and  the  men  "recoiled  before 
that  avalanche  of  fierce  savages."  Let  the  story  be 
told  in  Burleigh's  own  language  and  at  length.  He 
said: 

"It  was  a  time  when  one's  country  was  of  far  greater 
importance  than  his  professional  calling,  so  I  did  what  I 
could  for  the  former  during  the  surging  five  minutes  that 
ensued.  I  rode  about  in  the  broken  line  of  the  Sixty-fifth, 
where  General  Graham  and  other  officers  were,  striving 
to  get  the  soldiers  to  close  up  and  fire  steadily. 

"At  the  moment  we  were  hardest  pushed,  I  saw  an  old 
acquaintance,  Captain  Rutherford  of  the  Sixty-fifth,  left 
almost  without  his  company,  erect,  bare-headed,  sword 
in  hand,  facing  the  shouting,  jubilant  Arabs,  and  hoarsely 
calling,  *Men  of  the  Sixty-fifth,  close  up.'  I  shouted  to 
him,  and  even  in  that  roar  and  rush  found  time  to  exchange 
a  word  or  two  with  him  as  to  what  was  best  to  be  done, 
ere  turning  again  to  invite  the  soldiers,  who  were  showing 
a  bold  front  to  the  foe,  to  aim  and  fire  carefully.  .  .  . 

"Still,  on  the  enemy  came,  yelHng  and  screaming  with 
diabolic  ferocity.  The  gaping  wounds  made  by  our  almost 
explosive  Martini-Henry  bullets  scarcely  checked  the  savages 
in  their  wild  career.  It  was  only  when  the  lead  shattered 
the  bone  of  a  leg,  or  pierced  heart  or  brain,  that  their  mad 
onrush  was  stopped.  I  saw  Arab  after  Arab,  through 
whose  bodies  our  bullets  had  ploughed  their  way,  charging 
down  on  the  square,  with  the  blood  spouting  in  pulsating 
streams  from  them  at  every  heart  throb.  .  .  . 

"Others  there  were  whose  life-blood  ebbed  ere  they 
reached  our  men,  who  fell  within  a  pace  or  two  of  the  soldiers. 
The  last  act  of  these  warriors  was  invariably  a  despairing 
effort  to  hurl  the  weapon  they  carried  at  the  moment  in 
their  hand  —  stick,  spear  or  sword  —  at  their  English  foe- 
men.  A  savage  gleam  shown  in  their  faces,  defiant,  unre- 
lenting, hating,  as  they  gathered  all  strength  to  thus  make 
their  last  blow  at  us.  Who  could  but  admire  and  applaud 
such  dauntless  bravery?  Those  of  us  privileged  to  witness 
it,  and  the  awful  spectacle  of  those  five  minutes,  can  never 


206     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

forget  it,  or  cease  to  remember  the  grand,  self-sacrificing 
d6urage  of  the  brave  Hadendowas. 

"As  backward  the  right  face  and  corner  of  the  Sixty- 
fifth  were  borne  from  the  nullah's  edge,  and  the  indent 
or  little  gully,  the  right  wing  of  the  Forty-second  was  left 
exposed,  and  the  savages  were  among  the  Highlanders  on 
their  fiank  and  rear  in  a  twinkling,  cutting  and  spearing 
in  every  direction.  Still  falling  back,  in  a  line  to  the  east 
of  that  taken  on  our  advance  from  the  zareba,  the  Marines 
who  were  in  the  rear  of  the  square  were  wheeled  up  to  the 
support  of  the  Sixty-fifth  and  to  close  the  gaps  in  our  for- 
mation. It  was  too  late  for  the  movement  to  be  executed 
successfully,  and  they  too  were  thrown  into  disorder,  and 
were  borne  away  from  the  nullah  on  the  line  of  retreat. 

"As  that  fine  body  of  men  were  being  swept  away. 
Major  Colwell  roared  in  stentorian  tones: 

"*Men  of  the  Portsmouth  division,  rally!'  Rally  they 
did,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  of  them  closing  together 
in  a  compact  body,  forming  a  little  square.  These  were 
the  last  to  retire  and  take  their  positions  in  the  reformed  line. 

"In  the  right  comer  of  the  square,  or  what  once  was  a 
square,  were  now  inextricably  mixed  men  of  the  Sixty-fifth, 
Blue-jackets,  Marines  and  a  few  Highlanders.  It  was  not 
a  rout,  but  a  retreat;  for  our  soldiers  kept  loading  and 
firing,  although  there  was  no  semblance  at  the  time  of  an 
orderly  military  line;  but  in  place  thereof,  facing  and  fighting 
the  enemy,  were  an  irregular  body  of  men  in  rather  open 
order  on  what  was  the  west  face  of  the  square.  Numerous 
melees  occurred,  where  with  fist  and  foot  the  soldiers  mauled 
the  savages.  The  Arabs  threw  themselves  on  our  men, 
grasping  their  rifles,  and  in  one  instance  actually  tearing 
off  a  Highlander's  kilt  in  the  tussle.  .  .  . 

"For  a  brief  interval  it  was  the  innings  of  Osman  Digna's 
followers,  and  they  rioted  in  cutting  and  slashing.  Every 
soldier  who  stumbled  or  fell  was  done  for,  the  enemy  darting 
in  squads  for  these  unlucky  ones,  thrusting  their  spears 
into  them.  As  they  followed  us  closely  up,  they  never 
missed  an  opportunity  to  drive  their  weapons  into  the  body 
of  any  soldier  lying  on  the  ground  who  exhibited  the  slightest 
signs  of  life.  .  .  ." 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  207 

Through  all  that  struggle  the  voice  of  Burleigh 
was  heard  when  other  voices  could  not  be  distinguished. 
He  did  some  fighting,  but  his  chief  concern  was  to 
assist  in  the  preventing  of  a  panic  and  to  hold  the  men 
and  aid  in  getting  them  reformed.  "I  was  an  eye- 
witness to  scores  of  instances  of  heroism,"  he  says. 
When  the  advance  was  begun  again  he  attached  him- 
self to  the  right  of  the  line  and  he  rode  with  the  colonel 
in  command  of  the  Marines,  who  had  but  one  mounted 
oflficer  left.  Thereupon  the  special  felt  warranted  in 
offering  his  own  services. 

A  few  minutes  before  noon  the  battle  was  over. 
The  foe  had  run  amuck,  but  they  had  been  beaten; 
the  camp  of  Osman  was  in  the  hands  of  General  Graham 
and  there  he  prepared  to  rest  and  bivouac.  The 
instant  the  operations  were  over  for  the  day  the  corre- 
spondent was  again  the  newspaper  man.  He  dis- 
mounted and  picked  his  way  about  among  the  dead, 
roughly  estimating  numbers,  and  making  notes  of 
the  names  of  oflScers. 

This  done,  and  a  rapid  survey  of  the  field  having 
been  taken,  he  was  for  the  wire.  General  Graham 
did  him  the  honor  of  asking  that  he  carry  his  own 
messages.  From  the  khor  to  the  sea  Burleigh  galloped 
at  top  speed,  and  by  two  that  afternoon  his  Arab  horse 
had  brought  him  to  the  telegraph  station.  But  alas! 
there  was  no  help  for  it,  he  had  to  yield  the  right  of 
priority;  the  official  despatches  went  off  first.  Before 
his  arrival  there  were  all  sorts  of  rumors  floating  about 
Suakin.  Fragments  of  news  had  been  heliographed 
from  the  zarebas,  and,  founding  their  judgments  as 
well  as  the  mirage  would  permit  upon  the  retreat  of 
the  troops,  it  had  been  supposed  that  the  British  were 
routed.    Admiral  Hewett  had  foimd  it  necessary  to 


208     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

stop  messages  for  England  based  on  these  rumors. 
Not  until  the  arrival  of  the  correspondent  with  the 
despatch  of  General  Graham  did  the  truth  become 
known. 

Burleigh  got  off  his  first  message  at  one-forty-five 
on  March  13;  the  second  went  at  two-thirty;  the  third 
at  five-thirty;  the  fourth  at  dawn  the  following  morning; 
the  fifth  at  eight-ten  that  morning;  and  at  six-fifty 
in  the  evening  he  began  a  final  despatch  with  the 
words:  "I  have  just  returned  the  second  time  from 
Tamai." 

For  his  services  upon  the  Gordon  Relief  Expedition, 
Burleigh  won  the  honor  coveted  of  all  soldiers,  a  mention 
in  the  oflScial  despatches,  and  it  is  said  that  if  the 
conditions  under  which  it  is  granted  would  have  per- 
mitted he  would  have  been  awarded  the  Victoria  Cross. 
Through  all  the  night  hours  before  the  Battle  of  Abu 
Klea  the  droning  of  the  tomtoms  and  the  wild  cadences 
of  the  Moslem  chant,  with  the  intermittent  firing  of 
their  Remington  rifles,  came  from  the  low  hills  in  front 
of  the  camp  of  General  Stewart,  where  1400  men, 
wearing  their  overcoats  and  wrapped  in  blankets, 
were  sleeping  with  guns  under  their  hands  and  bayonets 
fixed.  Before  dawn  there  were  four  separate  alarms 
which  brought  the  whole  force  to  their  feet.  In  the 
battle  of  the  following  day  the  correspondent  was 
very  near  Colonel  Bumaby  when  that  officer  fell, 
fighting  valiantly,  and  Burleigh's  despatch  contains 
the  most  complete  account  of  his  death. 

In  the  next  battle  Burleigh  was  twice  hit.  The 
troops  had  marched  all  night  and  built  their  zareba 
right  in  the  lair  of  the  enemy,  about  four  miles  from  the 
Nile.  Shortly  after  the  fighting  began,  as  the  British 
were  replying  with  machine  guns  to  the  fire  of  the 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  209 

foe,  Melton  Prior  heard  a  loud  thud,  and  Immediately 
Burleigh  was  yelling  to  the  artist:  "Pick  it  out. 
Prior,  pick  it  out!"  and  at  the  same  time  clawing  at 
his  neck.  He  had  been  struck  by  a  ricochetted  ball 
just  under  the  ear  and  soon  there  appeared  a  big  black 
lump  half  the  size  of  a  chicken's  egg.  The  pain  and 
shock  were  so  great  that  Burleigh  could  hardly  be- 
lieve there  was  nothing  in  his  head  to  "pick  out."  A 
wound  in  the  foot  proved  to  be  rather  more  serious. 

In  the  square  at  Abu  Kru  there  are  said  to  have 
been  less  than  a  thousand  men  against  ten  times  that 
number.  But  the  square  held,  the  foe  were  thrown 
back  three  times  and  finally  stampeded.  In  one 
episode  of  that  bitter  struggle  forty  oflBcers  and  men 
took  their  orders  from  "Mr.  Burleigh"  by  direction 
of  their  superior.  This  was  when  upon  the  advice  of 
the  correspondent,  the  little  detachment  sallied  forth 
under  a  galling  fire  with  bores  and  spades  to  construct 
some  detached  fortifications.  A  soldier  who  fought 
there  has  told  me  that  when  volunteers  were  asked 
for  a  task  which  seemingly  meant  certain  death,  the 
first  to  offer,  with  possibly  an  exception  or  two,  was 
Burleigh.  As  a  part  of  their  fortification  they  con- 
structed a  breastwork  of  biscuit  boxes.  The  loss  was 
very  heavy  in  that  battle.  John  Cameron  of  The 
Standard  was  shot  while  sitting  between  two  camels 
at  his  lunch;  St.  Leger  Herbert  of  the  Morning  Post 
was  killed  also,  and  the  correspondents  were  among 
those  who  wept  silently  over  the  wounded  General 
Sir  Herbert  Stewart.  The  foe  once  routed,  Prior  and 
Burleigh  went  to  work  to  help  carry  the  woimded  to 
the  new  camp  on  the  Nile. 

The  desperate  advance  was  all  in  vain.  Those 
were  the  days  when,  to  quote  the  Daily   Telegraph, 


210     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

"all  Christendom  turned  its  eyes  to  that  lonely  English- 
man, Gordon,  at  Khartoum."  The  telegraph  wires 
north  of  Khartoum  were  cut,  of  course,  and  communi- 
cation between  the  sentinel  of  the  Soudan  and  the 
force  fighting  its  way  to  his  rescue  was  precarious. 
Through  the  entire  period  the  despatches  sent  by 
Burleigh  were  read  with  intense  interest.  When  Gor- 
don managed  to  get  a  steamer  through  to  Metemmah 
the  special  succeeded  in  communicating  with  her 
before  all  others. 

Alas!  just  a  week  after  the  battle  of  Gubat  the 
news  came  that  the  gates  of  Khartoum  had  been  opened 
to  the  Mahdi  and  that  Gordon  had  been  slain.  Now 
the  anxiety  of  the  British  public  was  f  ocussed  upon  the 
little  Desert  Column  and  the  chances  of  their  making 
a  safe  retreat  from  a  position  made  trebly  perilous 
by  the  fall  of  Khartoum.  The  Mahdi's  men  were 
planning  to  cut  off  their  retreat,  and  Sir  Redvers  BuUer, 
who  had  succeeded  to  the  command,  was  putting 
forth  strenuous  exertions  to  extricate  them.  On 
Saturday,  February  21,  1885,  there  appeared  in  the 
Daily  Telegraph  a  statement  of  the  dire  straits  of  the 
force  away  up  the  Nile.  That  day  the  British  people 
were  almost  in  a  state  of  panic.  After  midnight  on 
Sunday,  February  22,  a  message  reached  the  newspaper 
oflSce  stating  that  the  column  had  reached  a  place  of 
safety.  Thereupon  it  was  determined  to  do  an  un- 
heard of  thing, —  issue  a  Sunday  edition.  On  their  way 
to  worship  that  morning  congregations  learned  the 
good  news  from  the  Daily  Telegraph's  extra,  and  their 
report  anticipated  the  official  despatches  by  thirty-six 
hours. 

This  announcement  was  made  possible  by  the  enter- 
prise of  Bennet  Burleigh.     He  had  noted  the  success- 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  211 

ful  consummation  of  the  early  arrangements  for  the 
withdrawal  of  the  column,  and  then  had  galloped  with 
a  small  party  across  the  desert,  reaching  the  quarters 
of  Lord  Wolseley  at  Korti  on  February  20.  But  he 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  send  a  telegram  from 
Gakdul  in  the  late  afternoon  of  the  preceding  day, 
while  the  Commander-in-Chief  did  not  wire  from 
Korti  until  mid-afternoon  of  Friday,  the  twentieth. 
Thus  Burleigh  was  able  to  place  to  his  credit  another 
of  the  exploits  which  earned  for  him  his  fame. 

He  was  back  in  Egypt  in  1897,  having  meantime 
reported  several  campaigns  for  his  paper,  in  order  to 
be  on  hand  if  a  sudden  dash  should  be  made  for  Khar- 
toum by  the  army  of  the  Sirdar  because  of  some  un- 
expected lapse  in  the  power  of  the  Mahdi's  successor, 
the  Khalifa.  The  best  chance  for  good  news  stories 
just  at  the  time  seemed  to  be  indicated  by  the  known 
intention  of  the  Khedival  troops  to  occupy  Kassala, 
about  three  hundred  miles  to  the  east  of  Khartoum. 
Burleigh  set  out  for  that  place,  intending  to  make 
a  trip  which  no  European  had  adventured  for  fourteen 
years.  But  the  Sirdar  refused  the  requisite  permission 
and  donkeys  and  camels  were  not  to  be  had  of  the 
natives,  who  were  unwilling  to  displease  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief. He  must,  therefore,  go  by  sea  to 
Massowah  and  pass  through  the  Italian  colony  of 
Eritrea. 

There  would  be  no  steamboat  leaving  for  that  port 
for  months,  so  he  hired  a  sambuk,  a  large  open  native 
boat,  to  make  the  voyage  of  three  hundred  miles,  and 
"a  raggedy-higgledy-piggledy  craft"  it  was,  ''fitted 
up  with  what  might  have  been  the  sweepings  of  a  junk 
shop,"  with  an  aged  sheikh  as  a  pilot  and  a  crew  of 
seven  Arabs  and  negroes.     It  was  blowing  great  guns 


212     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

when  they  started  and  the  skipper  was  undergoing 
"as  many  changes  of  colour  as  a  chameleon."  But 
they  landed  on  the  third  day  and  set  out  the  same 
evening  through  dense  darkness  and  rain,  upon  the 
first  stage  of  the  overland  journey.  Through  the 
night  they  clambered  among  the  rocks,  the  mules 
scrambling  along  like  cats,  the  correspondent  on  foot 
and  falling  three  times  in  as  many  minutes,  finally 
entering  Gindah,  twenty-five  miles  inland,  at  five  in 
the  morning,  entirely  exhausted.  They  scaled  the 
great  mountain  plateau  of  Abyssinia,  and  after  a  week 
of  adventurous  journeyings  settled  down  in  tented 
comfort  upon  the  plain  of  Kassala.  Burleigh  enjoyed 
a  deal  of  sport  through  his  stay  and  slept  with  lions 
and  leopards  sniffing  about  his  campfires.  But  the 
Egyptian  troops  were  sent  to  Wady  Haifa  for  the 
Dongola  campaign,  and  Burleigh  returned  to  Suakin 
and  thence  to  Cairo  and  London,  expecting  to  spend 
several  months  at  home. 

It  turned  out  that  he  was  to  spend  but  a  few  days 
in  England,  for  important  events  were  impending. 
The  Daily  Telegraph's  special  hastened  back  to  the 
Nile  and  went  forward  with  all  possible  speed  a  thou- 
sand miles  up  the  river  to  rail  head.  The  train  service 
was  overtaxed  by  the  demands  of  the  army,  and  the 
correspondents  had  to  march  and  ride  the  last  two 
hundred  and  thirty  miles.  The  troops  were  on  open 
trucks  on  the  railway,  "grilled  by  the  sun  by  day 
and  pinched  by  the  cold  at  night."  Burleigh  was 
forbidden  to  hire  camels  from  the  natives,  and  had  a 
hard  time  finding  a  donkey  that  was  up  to  his  weight. 
Several  small  adventures  befell  him  in  the  desert  and 
he  had  his  turn  with  the  sand  devils,  which  he  thus 
describes: 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  213 

"The  devils  are  indigenous  to  the  Soudan.  The  devil, 
small  or  large,  is  a  whirlwind,  that  spins  and  skips  across 
the  desert,  marking  his  course  with  a  column  of  sand,  dust 
and  pebbles.  He  is  a  brother  to  the  ocean  waterspKJut  and 
often  as  mischievous  and  dangerous.  Three  of  them  waltzed 
in  close  connection  through  the  British  and  Egyptian  lines. 
They  came  to  us  across  the  desert,  in  appearance  mighty, 
inverted,  black  cones,  their  points  from  forty  to  eighty 
feet  in  diameter.  When  they  struck  the  camp  it  was  with 
a  roar  as  of  many  rushing  trains  in  a  tunnel.  As  they 
fiu-iously  spun,  coats,  blankets,  helmets,  papers,  bully-beef 
tins,  in  sooth,  all  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  the  camp  within 
reach,  were  caught  up  in  the  ascending  vortex  and  borne 
as  bubbles  to  the  clouds.  Tents  and  tukels  went  as  they 
sidled  by,  and  the  brave  Camerons  and  Seaforths  had  great 
work  with  their  kilts.  When  the  devils  were  gone,  we  all 
were  as  black  as  sweeps,  and  almost  blinded  and  choked 
with  grit  and  sand." 

On  April  8  was  fought  the  battle  of  the  Atbara. 
It  was  "after  the  fatigues  of  the  march  and  the  excite- 
ment of  the  action,"  and  when  Burleigh  **had  finished 
his  long  but  hastily  written  telegrams,  which  were 
scrawled  out  while  sitting  upon  the  pebbles  under  a 
blazing  desert  sun,  half  blinded  and  wholly  wearied, 
and  terribly  thirsty  and  hungry,"  that  he  managed 
to  get  some  refreshment  and  then  wrote  his  long 
description  of  the  action.  The  attacking  force  had 
taken  the  usual  square  formation,  and  a  little  after 
six  the  preceding  evening  had  silently  quit  their  camp 
and  marched  into  the  desert.  "The  glint  of  pipe  or 
cigarette  could  be  seen  here  and  there  in  the  squares, 
but  beyond  that  and  the  heavy  trampling  of  the 
troops  upon  sand  and  gravel,  there  was  nothing  to 
give  warning  that  an  army  was  engaged  in  that  most 
difficult  and  risky  enterprise,  a  night  march."  Prowl- 
ing dervish  scouts  were  to  be  deceived  by  the  still 


214      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

burning  campfires  which  friendly  natives  kept  alive 
through  the  night.  "When  darkness  had  quite  fallen 
all  that  could  be  seen  was  the  dim  outline  of  the  square 
one  was  with  or  the  cold  shimmer  of  the  bayonets  of 
the  next,"  and  "even  when  the  moon  rose  her  light 
disclosed  little  more  of  the  movement  of  the  brigades, 
for  there  was  a  fresh  breeze  stirring  and  the  sand  and 
dust  drove  by  as  thick  as  a  Newfoundland  fog." 

A  halt  was  made  at  nine  and  the  bivouac  continued 
for  four  hours.  Burleigh  spent  the  time  visiting  the 
various  troops  and  observing  the  Sirdar  and  his  staff 
in  Maxwell's  square.  And  of  his  observations  he 
made  this  amusing  record,  among  others  of  a  different 
sort: 

"It  was  whilst  walking  softly,  so  as  not  to  disturb  light 
sleepers,  that  I  overheard  a  sentimental  Seaforth  Highlander 
say  to  his  comrade, 

"'Ah,  Tam,  how  many  thousands  there  are  at  hame 
across  the  sea  thinking  o'  us  the  nicht!* 

"* Right,  Sandy,*  replied  the  chum,  'And  how  many 
millions  there  are  that  don't  care  a  damn.  Go  to  sleep, 
you  fool!' 

"And  silence  again  fell  upon  that  corner  of  the  square." 

Shortly  after  one  in  the  morning  —  it  was  the  morn- 
ing of  Good  Friday  —  the  men  silently  fell  into  line 
again.  Now  there  was  no  smoking  and  no  talking, 
but  the  sheen  of  arms  could  not  be  hidden  and  the 
rumble  of  the  gun  carriages  could  not  be  stilled.  Com- 
mands were  given  by  the  use  of  signs,  as  the  moon 
now  flooded  the  desert  with  light.  The  watchword 
of  the  marchers  was  "Remember  Gordon  and  Klar- 
toum."  Just  as  the  sun  was  rising  they  were  seen  by 
the  dervishes.  For  some  time  a  cannonade  followed; 
then  came  the  bugled  call  for  a  general  advance.     The 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  215 

Khedival  bands  began  playing  and  the  pipers  skirled. 
There  was  wild  work  with  rifles,  pistols  and  bayonets. 
The  Camerons,  their  hands  gloved,  pulled  apart  the 
thorny  bushes  of  which  the  zareba  was  made.  The 
work,  said  Burleigh,  "was  furious  and  ticklish,  as  of 
clearing  out  by  hand  a  hive  of  hornets."  The  corre- 
spondent himself  entered  the  zareba  and  palisade  a 
little  to  the  left  of  the  centre  of  the  Camerons,  and  as 
the  ground  was  rough  and  he  needed  a  wide  view,  he 
at  once  mounted  his  horse.  "I  know  the  sound  of 
bullets  hitting  in  close  proximity  all  around,"  he  wrote, 
"and  I  several  times  caught  myself  wondering  when 
I  was  going  to  get  the  first  one.  But  not  even  my  cloth- 
ing was  cut,  although  it  had  more  than  once  been 
formerly." 

Soon  the  final  series  of  events  in  the  long  struggle 
for  the  possession  of  the  Soudan  was  at  hand.  Bur- 
leigh spent  a  short  time  in  England,  and  was  back  in 
Cairo  in  July  for  the  march  to  Kliartoum. 

Reaching  the  neighborhood  of  the  Khalifa's  strong- 
hold, Burleigh  traveled  with  the  cavalry  on  the  left 
front  and  from  the  tip  of  a  granite  hill  he  had  his 
first  glimpse  of  Omdurman.  "As  in  a  daisy-pied  field 
there  were  dervish  battleflags  everywhere  among  the 
thick,  swart  lines  that  in  rows  barred  the  way.  The 
banners  were  in  all  colors,  shapes  and  sizes,  but  only 
the  Khalifa's  was  black."  The  correspondent  made 
careful  computation  and  reckoned  the  number  of 
the  enemy  at  35,000. 

He  had  his  full  share  in  the  battle  of  Omdurman, 
one  of  the  most  picturesque  conflicts  of  the  century. 
Before  four  in  the  morning  of  September  2,  1898,  the 
bugles  called  the  army  from  slumber;  at  five  the  Lancers 
rode  out  on  their  daily  task  of  scouting  and  covering 


216      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  advance.  Burleigh  joined  them  on  the  signal 
hill  and  as  he  led  his  horse  up  its  rugged  slopes  he 
"heard  a  mighty  rumbling  as  of  tempestuous  rollers 
and  surf  bearing  down  upon  a  rock-bound  shore." 
And  his  description  continues  thus : 

"When  I  had  gone  but  a  few  strides  farther  there  burst 
upon  my  sight  a  moving,  undulating  plain  of  men,  flecked 
with  banners  and  glistening  steel.  Who  should  count  them? 
They  were  compact,  not  to  be  numbered.  Their  front  from 
east  to  west  extended  over  three  miles,  a  dense  mass  flowing 
towards  us.  It  was  a  great  deep-bodied  flood  rather  than 
an  avalanche,  advancing  without  flurry,  solidly,  with  presage 
of  power.  The  sound  of  their  coming  grew  each  instant 
louder,  and  became  articulate.  It  was  not  alone  the  rever- 
beration of  the  tread  of  horses  and  men  I  heard  and  seemed 
to  feel  as  well  as  hear,  but  a  voiced  continuous  shouting 
and  chanting  —  the  dervish  invocation  and  battle  challenge, 
*  Allah  el  Allah!  Rasool  Allah  el  Mahdi!'  they  reiterated  in 
vociferous  rhymed,  rising  measure,  as  they  swept  over  the 
intervening  ground.  Their  ranks  were  well  kept,  the  serried 
lines  marching  with  military  regularity,  with  swaying  of  flags 
and  brandishing  of  big-bladed,  cruel  spears  and  two-edged 
swords.  Emirs  and  chiefs  on  horseback  rode  in  front  and 
along  the  lines,  gesticulating  and  marshalling  their  columns." 

At  five-thirty  the  fighting  began.  The  fierce  body 
of  savage  warriors  faced  a  fire  that  smashed  big  gaps 
in  their  ranks,  but  came  on  clearly  expecting  to  close 
with  the  British  and  Egyptian  forces.  The  range  of 
cannon  fire  shifted  rapidly  from  1700  yards  down  to 
less  than  a  thousand.  Rifles  were  fired  so  fast  that 
they  became  too  hot  to  hold  and  front-rank  men  in 
some  cases  changed  weapons  with  rear-rankers.  The 
first  phase  of  the  action  closed  when  the  dervish  columns 
faced  to  the  left  and  moved  behind  the  western  hills. 
Soon  they  spouted  from  shallow  ravines  and  dashed 
forward  at  breakneck  speed.     The  black  flag  reached 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  217 

a  point  within  nine  hundred  yards  of  Maxwell's  men 
and  there  it  was  stuck  in  a  pile  of  stones  and  around 
it  were  piled  the  dead.  Dervish  after  dervish  sprang 
to  uphold  the  banner,  which  was  riddled  with  bullets. 
"Then  the  dense  columns  shrunk  to  companies,  the 
companies  to  driblets,  which  finally  fled  westward  to 
the  hills,  leaving  the  field  white  with  jibbeh-clad 
corpses,  like  a  landscape  dotted  with  snowdrifts." 

Now  the  troops  of  the  Sirdar  swung  clear  of  their 
zareba  while  thousands  of  the  enemy  watched  from 
the  hills.  The  nature  of  the  ground  forced  some  of 
the  troops  out  of  their  true  positions.  The  dervishes 
were  quick  to  see  and  swift  to  seize  their  opportunity. 
They  "sprang  from  unsuspected  lairs,"  and  dashed 
for  the  exposed  brigade  of  Colonel  MacDonald.  Nearly 
every  person  in  the  army  saw  the  peril  of  the  Kttle 
force  with  12,000  dervishes  coming  at  them  pell  mell. 
Burleigh  rode  at  a  gallop,  disregarding  the  venomous 
dervishes  hanging  about,  up  the  slopes  of  the  signal 
hill,  where,  spread  like  a  picture,  the  scene  lay  below 
him.  Aid  was  sent  MacDonald  instantly,  but  no  aid 
could  reach  him  in  time.  His  troops  were  in  part  Sou- 
danese and  Egyptians.  Indecision  on  his  part  would 
have  surely  lost  all.  No  movement  to  the  rear  could 
be  attempted  in  the  face  of  so  fleet  and  daring  a  foe; 
there  were  columns  converging  upon  him  on  three 
sides.     It  was  "a  magnificent  struggle." 

One  of  the  important  services  rendered  by  Burleigh 
was  his  telling  the  story  of  the  courage  of  MacDonald 
and  bringing  home  to  the  public  the  facts  of  his  tough 
and  protracted  fight.  Of  the  entire  battle  the  special 
wrote:  "Neither  in  my  experience  nor  in  my  reading 
can  I  recall  so  strange  and  picturesque  a  series  of  in- 
cidents happening  within  the  period  of  twelve  hours." 


218     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

That  night  he  helped  to  knock  from  the  hmbs  of  Charles 
Neufeld  the  chains  he  had  carried  for  eleven  years. 
Then  he  lay  down  and  fell  asleep  on  the  bare  desert, 
"hoping  to  wake  and  find  that  servants  and  baggage 
had  turned  up."  Two  days  later  he  attended  the 
Gordon  memorial  service  *'  and  wept  with  the  attaches 
of  European  countries  and  the  English  officers  and 
men."  Incidentally  it  may  be  recorded  that  in  the 
battle  one  British  officer  is  said  to  have  earned  the 
medal  with  clasp  "for  saving  the  life  of  a  camp  fol- 
lower," to  use  the  terms  employed  by  the  Sirdar  in 
making  the  recommendation.  The  **  camp  follower " 
was  Burleigh. 

Immediately  after  the  occupation  of  Khartoum 
it  was  ordered  by  the  Sirdar  that  all  newspaper  men 
should  leave  the  Soudan.  The  Press  was  angry  and 
the  Press  made  exceeding  haste  to  get  away  from 
Omdurman.  Yet  there  were  tokens  of  great  impending 
events.  From  the  French  Congo,  Captain  Marchand 
had  been  sent  to  the  Upper  Nile,  and  there  were  rumors 
that  he  was  at  Fashoda.  Not  a  syllable  about  Mar- 
chand was  permitted  by  the  censor  to  go  over  the  wires 
to  the  London  papers,  however,  and  the  correspondents 
had  to  wait  until  they  reached  Lower  Egypt  before 
they  could  send  on  the  meagre  facts  in  their  possession. 
Burleigh  also  was  very  anxious  to  get  his  long  account 
of  the  battle  and  the  occupation  to  Fleet  Street  in 
advance  of  his  competitors.  He  plotted  a  scheme, 
in  which  but  a  single  confidante  was  required,  and 
carried  it  through  right  cleverly. 

The  group  of  specials  had  reached  Brindisi  on  their 
homeward  journey,  and  just  as  the  train  across  Europe 
was  moving  out  of  the  station  there,  Burleigh,  ap- 
parently yielding  to  a  freakish  impulse,  leaped  to  the 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  219 

ground,  saying:  **Good-bye,  fellows;  I'm  going  to 
stay  behind."  The  rest  of  the  story  is  told  in  these 
terms  in  the  columns  of  the  Daily  Telegraph: 

"His  colleagues  had  no  time  to  inquire  the  meaning  of 
this  manoeuvre.  They  consoled  themselves  with  the  thought 
that,  at  all  events,  their  own  despatches  would  reach  London 
first.  They  did  not  know  that  Burleigh  immediately 
returned  to  Cairo,  in  order  to  deal  with  the  Fashoda  affair, 
in  such  a  way  that,  although  everybody  engaged  in  the 
expedition  was  repeatedly  warned  not  to  disclose  anything 
about  it,  he  was  enabled  very  shortly  after  the  event  to  tell 
the  whole  story  day  by  day.  And  he  did  so  with  the  more 
satisfaction  because  he  knew  that  when  he  stepped  out  of 
the  train  at  Brindisi  a  trusted  messenger  proceeding  post 
haste  to  Downing  Street  was  also  bearing  in  three  large 
red  envelopes  addressed  to  the  Daily  Telegraph  his  own 
MSS.,  together  with  a  map  of  the  battle.  At  Calais  the 
bearer  of  the  despatches  was  met;  on  board  the  boat  a 
member  of  the  staff  of  the  Daily  Telegraph  prepared  the 
*copy*  for  the  printers;  the  map  was  corrected  by  an  officer 
who  had  been  on  the  spot,  and  immediately  the  Continental 
train  arrived  in  London  the  MSS.  was  rushed  into  the 
hands  of  the  compositors,  the  map  into  those  of  the  engravers, 
and  the  result  was  that  the  whole  story  of  Omdurman  was 
in  type  before  the  official  despatches  of  Lieut.-General  Sir 
Francis  Grenfell,  who  commanded  the  British  troops  in 
Egypt,  and  of  the  Sirdar,  General  Sir  H.  Kitchener,  were 
in  the  hands  of  the  Queen's  printers." 

In  addition  to  this  feat,  Bennet  Burleigh's  account 
of  the  battle  appeared  in  the  columns  of  The  Times, 
and  his  abihty  as  a  forecaster  of  events  enabled  his 
own  paper  to  publish  the  fact  of  the  **  smashing  of 
Mahdism,"  as  he  called  it,  on  the  very  day  the  battle 
was  fought.  He  telegraphed  the  forecast  in  advance 
of  the  event,  which  was  a  genuine  coup  in  the  realm  of 
calculation,  but  of  course  was  laden  also  with  grave 
risks  of    disaster.     The    Times  lost    both   its   corre- 


\ 


220      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

spondents  at  Omdurman:  Colonel  Frank  Rhodes,  the 
brother  of  Cecil  Rhodes,  was  seriously  wounded  in 
the  zareba  early  in  the  battle,  and  the  Hon.  Hubert 
Howard,  who  represented  also  the  New  York  Herald, 
was  killed  near  the  tomb  of  the  Mahdi  by  a  stray  shot 
after  the  fighting  was  over.  By  an  arrangement  with 
the  Daily  Telegraph,  Burleigh's  long  account  of  the 
battle  was  printed  simultaneously  in  The  Times,  with 
an  explanatory  note  stating  that  as  it  could  not  get 
its  own  despatches  it  used  by  courtesy  the  report 
of  the  correspondent  of  the  rival  newspaper. 

Almost  at  the  end  of  the  year  1894,  Burleigh  sailed 
by  way  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  for  Madagascar. 
The  French  had  practically  declared  war  against  the 
Malagasy,  and  for  some  unknown  reason,  had  decided 
that  no  press  men  should  be  permitted  to  march  with 
their  troops.  Therefore  the  special  was  commissioned 
"to  write  about  the  natives,  their  country,  and  the 
impending  conflict." 

As  in  the  case  of  the  other  correspondent  of  that 
campaign,  E.  F.  Kiiight,  Burleigh  shipped  upon  a 
vessel  whose  captain  proposed  to  land  his  passenger 
in  spite  of  the  prohibitions  of  the  French.  But  this 
correspondent  made  a  port  but  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  from  the  capital  rather  than  the  eight  hundred 
miles  which  Knight  had  to  cover.  There  was  no 
French  gunboat  in  sight,  and  Burleigh  went  ashore 
from  the  ship,  swaying  easily  with  the  waves  a  mile 
and  a  half  out,  in  a  craft  manned  by  natives  with  roughly 
hewn  paddles.  At  the  best  possible  moment  the  dash 
over  the  reef  was  made,  and,  although  a  ducking  was 
inevitable,  the  thews  and  muscles  of  the  paddlers  held 
the  boat  bow  on  and  saved  the  special  from  capsizing. 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  221 

For  some  cause  there  existed  a  deadly  prejudice 
against  Bennet  Burleigh  in  the  French  War  Office 
and  the  hostile  spirit  was  shown  upon  every  occasion 
by  the  officers  of  the  expedition  of  conquest.  They 
searched  steamships  without  full  warrant  of  authority 
upon  the  chance  of  apprehending  him.  When  the 
capital  of  the  Hovas  fell  they  drew  a  cordon  around 
the  city  and  inquired  at  once  where  Burleigh  could 
be  found.  It  was  stated  formally  to  him  that  the 
French  meant  not  to  shoot  but  to  hang  him,  that  they 
meant  to  make  an  example  of  him.  Nevertheless  he 
started  for  the  capital,  with  an  American  as  a  traveling 
comrade,  immediately  after  his  landing  through  the 
surf,  and  he  regarded  the  whole  of  his  stay  in  the  island 
as  merely  a  pleasant  jaunt,  affording  no  perils  and  no 
pictures  of  real  war. 

Over  astonishing  distances  his  carriers,  "muscled 
as  models  for  sculptors,"  bore  him  in  the  hand  palan- 
quin, which  is  "the  stage  coach  of  Madagascar," 
trudging  through  swamps  and  marshes,  rice  j&elds 
and  forests,  with  black  parrots  screaming  overhead, 
and  splendid  scenery  on  every  hand.  He  found  the 
capital  an  irregular  jumble  of  houses  of  brick,  mortar, 
wood  and  leaf  fibre.  The  Prime  Minister  assured 
him  in  a  formal  interview  that  no  French  protectorate 
would  ever  be  accepted  by  the  Hovas,  and  the  spirits 
of  the  special  rose  at  the  prospect  after  all  of  some 
genuine  fighting,  especially  when  the  red  flag  of  war 
was  hoisted  upon  the  twelve  sacred  hills  of  the  great 
continental  island. 

Burleigh  witnessed  the  swaying  and  heard  the 
shouting  of  50,000  Hovas  who  answered  the  summons 
for  a  monster  mass  meeting  which  was  hoisted  upon 
the  Royal  Palace  crowning  the  hill  of  Antananarivo. 


222      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

The  blaring  of  trumpets,  the  blowing  of  horns  and 
the  firing  of  artillery  announced  the  coming  of  the 
Queen,  who  was  borne  in  a  velvet  and  gold  palanquin, 
with  a  gold  sceptre  in  her  right  hand  and  the  crown 
resting  upon  a  cushion  near  to  be  placed  upon  her  head 
when  she  made  her  speech.  It  was  a  brave  address, 
and  the  people  cheered  her  wildly,  yet  "there  was  not 
a  single  efficiently  trained  soldier  in  the  country." 

The  experienced  war  special  witnessed  also,  and 
with  real  chagrin  and  disappointment,  how  bungled 
and  destitute  of  energy  and  skill  was  the  defence. 
No  advice  was  regarded  by  the  government  and  there- 
fore the  foreign  military  advisers  felt  constrained  to 
hand  in  their  resignations.  The  Hovas  talked  large; 
they  would  burn  their  capital  and  make  it  another 
Moscow;  every  man  would  go  out  and  face  death  with 
sword  and  spear  when  the  invaders  drew  near  the 
city;  yet  positions  almost  impregnable  for  defence  were 
surrendered  without  a  blow.  Burleigh  made  some 
quiet  explorations  on  his  own  account  and  once  was 
in  some  danger  from  robbers,  but  the  Hovas  would 
not  allow  him  to  see  their  men  in  action.  Finally 
the  French  were  in  sight,  and  the  tens  of  thousands 
of  Hova  "warriors"  stared  in  astonishment  at  the 
search-light  which  was  flashed  upon  them  at  night,  and 
when  a  melinite  shell  burst  in  the  royal  courtyard  the 
Queen  ordered  a  flag  of  truce  hoisted,  and  it  was  all 
over. 

Next  came  another  campaign  which  "yielded  not 
even  a  whiff  of  gunpowder  smoke,"  but  it  was  one 
in  which  the  soldiers  endured  hardships  far  beyond 
those  of  ordinary  warfare.  This  was  the  Ashanti 
campaign,  in  which  the  real  enemy  was  the  insidious 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  223 

malarial  climate.  Burleigh  declares  that  he  broke 
all  the  hygienic  rules  by  undertaking  long  and  tiring 
marches,  sleeping  out-of-doors  and  taking  no  quinine, 
but  his  Madagascar  seasoning  helped  him  and  he 
escaped  all  unfortunate  consequences. 

The  steamship  left  an  English  winter  in  November, 
1895,  and  reached  June  weather  in  a  week.  In  three 
days  after  sailing  overcoats  became  a  burden,  and  then 
lawn  tennis  clothes  were  warm  enough  for  comfort. 
On  board  were  some  Royal  Artillerymen,  medical 
officers  and  doctors,  engineers.  Sierra  Leone  and  Gold 
Coast  officials  and  traders,  a  missionary  or  two,  the 
governor  of  Sierra  Leone  and  the  private  secretary 
of  the  commander-in-chief.  Most  of  them  had  plenty 
of  leisure  for  pleasure  during  the  voyage,  and  every 
night  there  was  a  "sing-song." 

On  December  19,  scores  of  surf-boats,  manned  by 
semi-nude  stalwart  Fantees,  who  dipped  their  trifur- 
cated  paddles  with  lightning  speed  and  machine-like 
regularity  and  marked  the  rhythm  with  a  weird  chant, 
were  swarming  about  the  just-arrived  ship.  And  on 
Christmas  they  managed  to  have  a  jolly  celebration 
in  spite  of  all  the  drawbacks  of  the  situation.  All 
joined  in,  "Fantee,  Ashanti,  Kroo-boy,  Sierra  Leone 
boy,  Mohammedan  Houssa,  West  African  negro  and 
fetish  workers." 

On  this  campaign  Burleigh  rode  a  bicycle,  a  pneu- 
matic, which  he  found  scarcely  up  to  his  weight,  and 
of  his  wheel  he  has  written  a  page  which  must  be  cited: 

"The  Headquarters  had  left  and  I  was  in  duty  bound  to 
catch  up  with  them.  Riding  slowly  through  the  rough 
streets  of  the  town,  I  took  the  military  road  —  the  only 
one  —  for  the  Prah.  My  fighting  weight,  with  repeating 
carbine,  pistols  and  accessories  —  nice  vague  term  —  was 


224      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

eighteen  stone.  Enough  on  a  macadam,  rather  too  much 
on  an  eight  to  fifteen  feet  wide,  roughly  graded,  earth  and 
natural  rock  highway.  Pedalling  was  necessary  to  move 
at  quite  a  moderate  speed, '  scorching'  was  out  of  the  question 
—  the  sun  had  the  monopoly  of  that,  whilst  as  for  *  coasting' 
down  hill,  an  idling  tree-trunk  lying  across  the  road,  a 
terraced  ledge  of  rocks  or  other  obstacle,  played  havoc 
with  any  race  against  time.  I  trundled  on  at  eight  to  ten 
miles  an  hour,  contented  with  that  speed  and  enveloped 
with  a  cloud  of  hot  steam  and  dust.  The  swart  natives  who 
turned  at  the  screech  of  my  *  siren,'  and  saw  me  on  my  *bike,' 
went  white  with  fear,  dropped  their  loads,  and  leaping  the 
road  scampered  like  deer  into  the  bush.  I  saw  them  peering 
after  me  as  if  I  were  a  ghost  or  stalking  fetish.  There  was 
a  long  downhill  on  a  fairly  good  bit  of  road,  where,  the 
path  being  tortuous,  my  *bike'  took  charge  before  I  was 
well  aware  of  the  fact.  I  had  no  brake,  so  *  coasting'  fu- 
riously, shouting  and  pumping  the  siren  till  it  roared,  with 
my  legs  afloat  in  the  air,  I  let  *her'  go.  Those  unhappy 
carriers,  with  whom  the  road  was  thronged,  when  they  heard 
the  uproar  and  saw  me  sailing  down  the  wind  on  a  cloud 
upon  them,  tossed  their  loads  instantly  aside,  and  they 
dived,  scrambled  and  disappeared  from  sight  in  a  twinkling. 
And  down  that  half-mile  odd  of  hill  their  calls  to  their 
countrymen  ran,  as  if  I  had  bestrode  a  fire-engine  careering 
madly  through  the  streets  of  a  city." 

Thus  Burleigh  outpaced  his  carriers  by  hours  and 
miles.  The  last  march  was  made  on  January  17. 
Burleigh  beheld  the  king  seated  upon  a  chair,  placed 
upon  the  topmost  bank  of  a  circular  series  of  clay 
platforms;  over  his  head  were  held  huge  plush  umbrellas. 
Swarming  below  and  around  the  court  were  per- 
haps five  thousand  retainers,  jabbering,  shrieking  and 
gesticulating,  while  an  army  of  drummers  and  horn- 
blowers  kept  up  a  terrific  din.  Three  days  later  the 
great  fetish  village  was  burned  and  razed  to  the  ground 
and  the  place  of  human  sacrifices  and  barbarous  rites 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  ^25 

was  destroyed.  When  the  return  march  to  the  coast 
began,  Burleigh  turned  back  to  Coomassie  to  see  what 
might  happen  when  the  troops  retired,  and  he  then 
saw  the  Union  Jack  at  half-mast  on  the  governor's 
staff  and  learned  that  the  news  had  been  withheld  of 
the  death  on  the  way  home  to  England  of  the  Queen's 
son-in-law.  Prince  Henry  of  Battenburg. 

One  other  incident  in  the  expedition  deserves  men- 
tion. The  correspondent  had  before  this  time  slept 
stretched  out  on  a  box  of  gun-cotton,  but  in  one  little 
village  of  a  dozen  houses  he  found  four  hundred  pounds 
of  the  explosive  piled  in  the  central  roadway  with  the 
cases  connected  up  with  detonators,  so  that  it  could 
be  instantly  used.  Over  this  pile  was  placed  "a 
wretched,  tobacco-smoking,  drum-whacking  native 
guard,  whilst  we  laid  our  heads  down  and  slept  a  dozen 
yards  or  so  from  the  spot." 

The  story  of  Burleigh's  experiences  in  the  South 
African  War  has  been  told  in  detail  in  one  of  his  books, 
yet  several  of  his  exploits  are  not  of  formal  record. 
He  was  in  the  field  again  for  the  Daily  Telegraph; 
he  spent  a  month  before  Ladysmith  with  General 
Buller,  and  was  perhaps  the  only  correspondent  who 
left  the  place  while  the  army  was  streaming  in  hour 
after  hour,  the  men  dropping  on  the  sidewalks  with 
fatigue  as  they  entered.  Burleigh  rushed  to  the  tele- 
graph office  and  wired:  "We  are  beaten  and  it  means 
investment.  We  shall  all  be  locked  up  in  Ladysmith." 
He  made  up  his  mind  to  leave,  and  he  tried  to  induce 
Melton  Prior  to  go  with  him.  A  score  of  specials 
decided  to  stay  in  the  town,  and  Prior  chose  to  remain 
with  them.  Burleigh  got  his  cart  and  horses  ready 
and  left.    And  in  three  days  Ladysmith  was  out  of 


226     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

all  communication  with  the  outside  world.  He  made 
desperate  efforts  to  learn  what  was  going  on  in  the 
town  while  it  was  beleaguered,  trying  Kaffir  runners 
and  sending  fire  balloons  aloft  with  messages.  But  he 
had  httle  success  and  every  day  the  difficulties  of 
penetrating  the  Boer  lines  increased.  Again  by  "the 
intelligent  anticipation  of  events"  he  forecast  the 
rehef  of  the  town,  and,  by  arrangement  with  the  pro- 
prietors of  his  paper,  he  packed  his  cart  with  good 
things  and  had  it  sent  into  the  place,  where  it  was 
welcomed  with  an  outburst  of  joy.  And  no  wonder, 
for  it  contained  tobaccos,  champagne  and  tinned 
delicacies. 

But  Burleigh  meantime  was  on  his  way  to  join 
Lord  Roberts,  and  he  later  heard  with  glee  how  the 
men  who  had  been  penned  up  in  Ladysmith  for  one 
hundred  and  nineteen  days  appreciated  his  thought- 
fulness.  With  Lord  Roberts  he  made  the  western 
campaign,  remaining  with  his  army  until  the  surrender 
of  Pretoria.  His  two  big  exploits  in  this  war  were  the 
interview  with  General  Joubert  and  his  eluding  the 
censor  with  the  news  of  peace. 

Almost  at  the  beginning  of  the  war  he  had  under- 
taken a  venturesome  journey  through  the  Boer  army. 
When  it  became  apparent  that  he  must  manage  to 
get  away  from  Pretoria  he  somehow  got  a  pass  and  a 
place  in  the  commando  train,  in  which  were  three 
hundred  men,  with  horses  and  fodder,  stores  and  re- 
serve ammunition,  but  with  only  one  engine  to  pull 
the  thirty-five  coaches.  After  sixty  hours,  in  which  a 
comparatively  short  distance  was  covered,  the  train 
was  stopped.  The  lines  were  blocked  and  news  came 
that  the  English  were  planting  dynamite  to  blow  up  the 
bridges  on  the  road.     When  Joubert  arrived  Burleigh 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  227 

went  to  him  and  begged  to  be  taken  on  with  him  next 
day,  but  the  Boer  leader  refused  to  promise.  There 
was  nothing  to  be  done  that  night,  but  bright  and 
early  next  morning  the  special  was  at  the  station. 
He  saw  the  train  steaming  out  to  Sands-spruit,  and, 
feehng  sure  that  Joubert  was  aboard,  he  actually 
flagged  the  train,  which  stopped  forthwith.  Burleigh 
climbed  aboard  and  made  his  way  to  the  coach  in  which 
was  the  general.  The  Boer  was  amazed  and  delighted 
with  the  audacity  of  the  correspondent,  and  gave  him 
an  interview,  which  made  one  of  the  important  des- 
patches of  the  campaign  for  his  paper. 

While  the  negotiations  were  proceeding  for  peace 
the  most  emphatic  orders  were  issued  by  Lord  Kitchener 
that  the  news  should  not  be  hinted  in  any  despatches. 
The  censorship  was  very  strict,  and  extreme  precau- 
tions were  taken  to  insure  that  the  official  despatches 
should  carry  the  first  intelligence  to  London  of  the 
termination  of  hostilities,  tidings  for  which  the  English 
people  were  eagerly  waiting.  Burleigh  made  sure 
that  the  Pretoria  negotiations  were  succeeding,  and 
then  hit  upon  the  device  of  wiring  two  messages  so 
very  innocent  and  so  far  removed  from  the  peace 
conference  that  no  official  would  dream  of  stopping 
them  unless  he  were  gifted  with  astuteness  in  most 
uncanny  degree.  The  account  of  the  Daily  Telegraph 
was  printed  subsequently  thus; 

"On  Whit  Monday,  Mr.  Burleigh  telegraphed  us  from 
Pretoria  the  following  message:  'Whitsuntide  greetings!* 
When  his  despatch  reached  us  without  any  official  delay 
our  first  idea  was  that  its  transmission  at  full  rate  from  the 
seat  of  war  was  a  somewhat  superfluous  demonstration  of 
politeness.  A  little  reflection,  however,  served  to  indicate 
the  significance  of  the  particular  season  at  which  the  sociable 


228     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

sentiment  was  expressed;  and  we  fortunately  remembered 
that  in  the  Eastern  Churches  the  symbol  of  Whitsuntide 
was  the  dove  of  Peace.  But  on  this  surmise  we  did  not  feel 
justified  in  making  any  comment.  We  turned,  however, 
to  >  the  Prayer  Book  —  knowing  Mr.  Burleigh  to  be  well 
acquainted  with  Holy  Writ  —  and,  reading  over  the  Gospel 
for  Whit  Sunday,  we  came  upon  the  following  sentence: 

"'Peace  I  leave  with  you;  my  peace  I  give  unto  you; 
not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you.  Let  not  your 
heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be  afraid.* 

"Even  then  we  did  not  feel  justified  in  coming  to  a 
fixed  conclusion.  But  when  we  received  Mr.  Burleigh's 
message  to  his  brother  in  Glasgow  —  *  Returning.  Tell 
Lawson' —  we  felt  that  the  moment  had  arrived  when  we 
might  fairly  take  the  public  into  our  confidence." 

Thus  the  oflicial  statement.  But  as  a  matter  of 
fact  the  paper  very  nearly  missed  the  significance  of 
the  rather  cryptic  messages.  The  peace  negotiations 
had  been  in  progress  but  a  few  days  when  he  wired, 
and  it  was  on  Whit  Sunday  itself  that  the  Boer  leaders 
met  Lord  Kitchener  and  Lord  Milner.  The  telegrams 
were  sent  on  May  18;  the  terms  of  peace  were  finally 
signed  on  May  31.  It  was  really  another  case  of  the 
prescience  of  the  shrewd  special. 

The  great  conflict  in  the  Far  East  was  very  unsatis- 
factory from  the  point  of  view  of  this  veteran.  He 
went  into  the  field  on  a  Korean  pony,  "somewhat 
larger  than  a  St.  Bernard  dog  and  somewhat  smaller 
than  an  Egyptian  donkey,"  and  before  very  long  found 
"the  leashed  life  of  a  war  correspondent  with  the 
Japanese"  insupportable.  There  was  small  comfort 
in  looking  at  puffs  of  smoke  and  listening  to  the  reports 
of  cannon  from  a  hill  four  miles  from  the  firing  line. 
Finally,  in  desperation,  like  many  another  special, 
Burleigh  surrendered  to  the  inevitable  and  left  Man- 
churia.   He  was   in  the  Balkan  Peninsula  through 


BENNET  BURLEIGH  229 

the  crisis  which  followed  the  overthrow  of  Sultan 
Abdul  Hamid  by  the  Young  Turks,  and  his  sympathy 
with  Servian  aspirations  gained  for  him  the  endurmg 
affection  of  that  people.  In  1911,  he  went  to  TripoH, 
and  in  1912  in  the  Balkans,  at  the  age,  perhaps,  of 
seventy-three,  he  saw  his  last  shot  fired  in  war.  Less 
than  seven  months  after  his  retirement  from  active 
connection  with  his  paper,  on  June  17,  1914,  he  died 
in  London. 

It  must  be  noted  that  Bennet  Burleigh  was  a  most 
ingenious  and  strenuous  reporter  in  the  intervals 
between  the  wars  that  he  covered.  As  an  illustrative 
example,  there  is  the  story  of  the  time  when  public 
excitement  was  running  very  high  over  the  efforts  of 
Mr.  Charles  Bradlaugh  to  enter  the  House  of  Commons. 
It  was  known  that  he  would  make  an  attempt  to  force 
his  way  into  the  chamber,  and  that  there  was  bound  to 
be  a  scene  in  the  lobby  of  the  House.  No  reporters 
could  hope  to  gain  access  to  the  lobby.  Burleigh, 
at  that  time  in  the  employ  of  an  agency,  procured  the 
clothing,  the  ladders  and  the  tools  of  a  gas  fitter,  and 
went  to  work  upon  the  lamps  in  the  lobby.  Brad- 
laugh  came  on  schedule  time,  there  was  a  struggle  at 
the  door  of  the  chamber,  and  the  reporter,  from  an 
excellent  position  at  the  top  of  his  ladder,  watched 
the  whole  scene,  and  filed  mental  notes  for  future  use. 
As  soon  as  seemed  discreet,  the  "gas  fitter"  disap- 
peared, and,  to  the  perplexity  of  the  members,  the 
papers  had  some  very  interesting  articles  the  following 
day. 

Not  until  1909  did  disease  discover  the  age  of 
Bennet  Burleigh.  He  had  an  abnormally  robust 
constitution,  and  his  first  serious  illness  came  in  that 
year.     Moreover   his   was   the   rather   unusual   habit 


230      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

among  men  of  the  cosmopolitan  and  newspaper  type 
of  letting  tobacco  alone  altogether  and  of  drinking 
nothing  more  exhilarating  than  soda  water.  He  had 
"great  habits,"  indeed,  as  Mortimer  Menpes  said, 
and  he  was  rather  prone  to  assertiveness  upon  military 
matters,  as  if  his  judgment  was  authoritative.  How- 
ever, he  was  seldom  wrong,  and  his  cheery  optimism, 
his  ready  smile,  his  big  voice  and  his  deeply  tender 
nature  endeared  him  to  very  many  men.  His  favorite 
quotation  from  Milton  suggests  much,  "What  though 
the  field  be  lost.  All  is  not  lost."  His  supreme  aim 
was  never  to  be  beaten  with  the  news,  always  to  keep 
his  paper  in  the  lead,  and  his  power  of  organization, 
mated  with  the  qualities  which  have  been  noted, 
enabled  him  to  achieve  remarkable  things.  He  was  a 
Socialist,  and  a  lover  of  argument,  so  that  his  friends 
used  to  say  laughingly  that  he  "never  was  at  peace 
except  when  he  was  at  war."  It  must  have  been  a 
rare  type  of  man  who  received  this  tribute  from  Field- 
Marshal  Sir  Evelyn  Wood: 

"I  much  regret  to  learn  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Bennet 
Burleigh,  of  whose  accuracy,  ability,  courage,  endurance, 
discretion,  integrity,  military  judgment,  and  knowledge, 
patriotism,  and  tact,  I  have,  from  much  personal  observation 
extending  over  a  quarter  of  a  century,  a  very  high  opinion." 


CHAPTER  Vn 
EDMOND  O'DONOVAN 

**  I  am  writing  this  under  circumstances  which  bring  me  ahnost  as  near 
to  death  as  is  possible  to  be  without  being  under  absolute  sentence  of 
execution  or  in  the  throes  of  some  deadly  malady.  However,  to  die  out 
here,  with  a  lancehead  as  big  as  a  shovel  through  me,  will  meet  my  views 
better  than  the  gradual  sinking  into  the  grave  which  is  the  lot  of  so  miany. 
You  must  know  that  here  we  are  fifteen  hundred  miles  away  south  of 
Cairo,  in  the  midst  of  a  wild,  unexplored  country.  The  Egyptian  army, 
with  which  I  am  here  camped  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  will 'have  but  one 
chance  given  them — one  tremendous  pitched  battle.  The  enemy  we  have 
to  meet  are  as  courageous  and  fierce  as  the  Zulus,  and  much  better  armed, 
and  our  army  is  that  which  ran  away  before  a  handful  of  British  troops  at 
Tel-el-Kebir." 

— 0' Donovan  in  a  letter  to  Sir  John  Robinson  six  weeks  before  his  death. 

Restless  as  a  nomad  and  incurably  Bohemian  in 
his  tastes,  Edmond  O' Donovan  once  described  his 
life  in  the  conventional  civilization  of  London  as  that 
of  "a  Red  Indian  in  patent  leather  boots."  He  knew 
surveying,  medicine  and  botany,  combining  some 
degree  of  scientific  attainment  with  his  love  of  adven- 
ture. His  rooms  in  London  partook  of  the  appearance 
of  both  the  arsenal  and  the  laboratory;  upon  the  walls 
were  daggers,  revolvers  and  carbines,  and  scattered 
about  the  floors  were  retorts,  galvanic  batteries  and 
Leyden  jars.  He  rejoiced  in  Oriental  carpets  and 
curiously  woven  rugs,  and  smoked  a  water  pipe  with 
all  the  placid  satisfaction  of  a  native  of  the  East. 
He  had  the  Irishman's  love  for  Thomas  Moore,  and 
there  was  a  goodly  amount  of  sentiment  in  his  makeup, 
so  that  in  Asia  Minor  he  would  lie  on  his  back  and 
recite  to  Edward  Vizetelly  two  hundred  lines  at  a 
time  from  "Lalla  Rookh."  On  several  occasions  he 
rather  amazed  London  by  his  practical  jokes,  as  when 


232     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

he  dressed  his  secretary  in  a  most  extraordinary 
blending  of  costumes  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe 
and  promenaded  the  Strand  "conversing"  with  him 
in  an  outlandish  gibberish  invented  for  the  purpose. 
All  inquirers  were  told  his  companion  was  "  a  chieftain 
from  Karakali  and  a  very  clever  chap." 

Edmond  O'Donovan  was  the  son  of  a  Celtic  scholar 
of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  and  himself  took  prizes 
there  in  chemistry.  He  became  assistant  librarian 
for  the  institution,  but  the  cloisters  of  learning  did 
not  suit  his  temperament,  and  he  began  journalism 
when  about  twenty  years  of  age.  There  were  trips 
to  France  and  America,  and  for  some  time  he  studied 
medicine  in  New  York  City.  After  Sedan  he  joined 
th<*  Foreign  Legion  and  fought  at  Orleans.  Having 
been  wounded  and  captured,  he  was  interned  in  a 
Bavarian  fortress  and  narrated  in  the  columns  of  papers 
in  Dublin  and  London  his  experiences  as  a  prisoner. 
During  the  Carlist  struggle  he  was  in  the  Basque 
Provinces  for  a  Dublin  paper  and  The  Times.  In 
1876  he  journeyed  to  Herzegovina  for  the  Daily  News, 
and  then  went  on  to  Asia  Minor  for  the  Russo-Turkish 
War.  The  campaign  over,  this  tall,  slender,  lithe 
man,  with  dark  beard  and  very  soft  eyes,  gifted  with 
a  genial  nature  and  a  marvellous  memory,  started 
upon  his  journey  into  the  remote  interior  of  Asia* 
It  is  the  story  of  this  ride  to  Merv  which  I  have  to 
relate  in  outline,  with  the  recommendation  that  his 
own  picturesque  narrative  be  read  by  those  who  have 
not  had  the  pleasure  of  making  its  acquaintance. 

"  I  left  Trebizond  at  sunset  on  Wednesday,  February 
5,  1879,  en  route  for  Central  Asia,"  he  says.  The  first 
stages  of  the  journey  were  accomplished  by  steamer 
and  train.     The  distance  from  Tiflis  to  the  Caspian 


ED.MOND   O'DONOVAN 
After  the  portrait  by  J.  C.  Armytage,  by  permission  of  Smith,  Elder  &  Co. 


EDMOND  O'DONOVAN  233 

Sea  at  Baku  was  traversed  in  the  primitive  cart  known 
as  the  troika.  Thence  he  went  over  the  sea  to  Tchikis- 
lar  with  General  Lazareff,  and  there  for  three  weary 
months  he  waited  in  the  rains  which  fell  almost  daily, 
in  the  vain  hope  that  some  forward  movement  would 
be  made.  Both  the  general  and  the  Irish  adventurer 
fell  dangerously  ill.  There  were  many  in  the  camp 
who  said  it  was  a  race  which  would  die  first,  and  there 
was  a  little  gambling  on  the  issue.  Those  who  bet 
on  the  commander-in-chief  won,  for  on  August  %% 
O'Donovan  staggered  from  his  bed,  insisted  upon 
being  helped  to  the  pier,  and  took  ship  back  to  Baku, 
where  two  days  later  the  body  of  General  Lazareff 
was  brought. 

General  Tergukasoff,  the  new  commander  of  the 
Russian  forces,  arrived  about  a  month  later  and 
carried  O'Donovan  to  Tchikislar  once  more.  It  was 
made  clear  to  the  visitor  that  the  Russians  had  no 
special  interest  in  his  society;  there  were  hints  and 
finally  direct  intimations  that  he  must  quit  the  place. 
One  morning  he  was  ordered  to  leave  in  the  evening 
for  Baku.  O'Donovan  suavely  said  that  the  right 
to  direct  him  to  leave  he  did  not  contravene,  but  that 
he  disputed  the  right  to  dictate  the  route  he  should 
take.  He  was  quite  willing  to  go  to  the  frontier  and 
on  to  Asterabad,  the  nearest  point  where  he  would 
find  a  British  Consul.  The  ride  to  that  city  was 
studded  with  difficulties,  and  for  many  miles  he  trav- 
ersed a  mud  flat  following  the  telegraph  poles.  As 
he  glimpsed  Asterabad  at  last,  "with  its  picturesque 
towers  and  ramparts  gleaming  yellowly  in  the  noonday 
sun"  he  wrote  that  he  "might  almost  fancy  himself 
enacting  the  part  of  Kalendar  in  the  Arabian  Nights, 


234      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and,  after  a  weary  wandering  amid  trackless  deserts, 
coming  suddenly  upon  the  enchanted  city." 

His  intention  was  to  keep  within  reach  of  the 
Russian  columns  and  to  secure  information  from  time 
to  time  of  the  happenings  in  the  camp  at  Tchikislar 
from  which  he  had  been  banished,  but  rumors  reached 
him  of  some  unusual  activities  among  the  Tekke 
Turcomans  and  he  decided  to  venture  out  into  the 
plain  to  some  point  where  he  might  learn  with  accuracy 
precisely  what  was  going  on  in  the  Russian  lines. 
For  three  months  he  made  his  home  with  the  Yamud 
Turcomans.  The  world,  and  especially  the  English 
world,  wanted  to  know  what  the  mysterious  Russians 
were  doing  in  the  interior  of  Asia,  and  just  how  the 
movements  of  their  columns  related  to  the  military 
policies  and  the  political  purposes  of  the  two  nations. 
These  things  O'Donovan  was  determined  to  know 
as  much  about  as  it  was  possible  to  learn,  and  he 
had  a  well-grounded  conviction  that  Merv  was  one 
of  the  ultimate  points  of  the  Russian  movement,  so 
Merv  became  forthwith  an  objective  of  his  own. 

On  April  26,  1880,  he  sailed  from  the  port  of  Aster- 
abad  for  Enzeli,  intending  to  cross  the  mountains 
to  the  capital  of  Persia;  with  him  went  the  son  of  the 
Consul  and  a  courier.  The  riding  was  hard,  and  only 
after  much  scrambling  up  steep  ascents  and  a  deal 
of  floundering  and  slipping  did  they  finally  arrive  at 
Teheran.  The  first  call  was  upon  the  Russian  minister, 
who  informed  the  Irish  rover  that  all  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  commander-in-chief.  The  new  commander 
was  the  friend  of  MacGahan,  General  Skobeleff. 
O'Donovan  wired  him.  Back  came  a  prompt  and 
polite  reply  in  which  regrets  were  expressed,  but 
orders  were  orders  and  there  positively  could  be  no 


EDMOND  O'DONOVAN  235 

change  made  in  his  favor.  O'Donovan  telegraphed 
his  thanks  in  return,  and  added,  "au  revoir  a  Merv." 
"I  was  resolved  to  be  there  before  the  Russian  troops 
could  reach  it,"  he  wrote. 

Permission  to  visit  the  extreme  northern  limits 
of  Persia  was  not  hard  to  secure  and  there  he  would  be 
upon  the  borders  of  the  Tekke  country.  The  first 
point  in  the  itinerary  was  two  hundred  and  eighty- 
four  miles  away,  but  he  adventured  beyond  it, 
making  circuits  when  necessary  to  avoid  danger. 
Of  dangers  there  were  many;  in  one  riot  he  was  the 
target  of  more  than  a  hundred  stone  throwers. 
Foes  lurked  in  the  mountain  ravines  and  to  evade 
enemies  he  traveled  much  at  night,  and  once  in  the 
darkness  he  found  himself  on  top  of  a  mud  wall  four 
feet  high  and  mounting  higher  at  every  stride.  In  a 
few  minutes  he  would  have  been  twelve  feet  from 
the  ground  on  a  wall  two  feet  wide.  For  a  time  he 
traveled  with  a  train  of  pilgrims,  and  so  much  in  awe 
were  the  Persians  of  their  marauding  neighbors  that 
these  pilgrims  thought  their  guest  insane  to  undertake 
a  ride  to  any  place  near  the  Turcoman  frontier. 

Sickness  assailed  him  again.  For  a  time  he  was 
unconscious,  and  when  the  fever  left  him  enfeebled, 
it  became  advisable  to  modify  his  plans  once  more. 
He  departed  for  Meshed,  the  sacred  city  of  Persia, 
but  so  weak  was  he  and  so  slow  was  his  progress,  that 
the  distance  usually  walked  in  less  than  three  days 
required  seven  days  for  him  to  ride.  Here  he  rented 
a  house  where  he  intended  to  recuperate,  but  the 
action  of  the  Persian  government  detained  him  beyond 
the  contemplated  stay. 

After  three  months,  his  health  sufficiently  restored 
for  the  venture,  he  started  for  the  Tekke  country. 


236     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

In  the  van  rode  a  Turcoman  guide,  then  came  the 
guard  of  honor  designated  for  him,  three  soldiers  and 
three  servants,  and  in  the  rear  were  his  own  people 
and  his  horses.  He  found  that  the  Turcomans  were 
raiding  almost  up  to  the  gates  of  the  capital  of  the 
province.  Every  effort  he  made  to  cross  the  frontier 
was  blocked.  The  agents  of  the  Russians  were  watch- 
ing him  and  in  some  of  the  obstacles  about  him  he 
traced  their  influence.  Twice  he  undertook  to  make 
his  way  through  the  Tejend  swamp,  a  treacherous 
expanse,  full  of  leopards  and  wild  boars  and  where 
an  occasional  tiger  was  shot,  a  passage  so  perilous 
that  often  horses  and  their  riders  were  swallowed  up 
in  the  depths  they  tried  to  traverse. 

Merv  he  was  bound  to  reach,  however,  whatever 
the  cost,  and  with  an  escort  of  ten  horsemen  he  finally 
managed  to  make  a  promising  sally.  Even  then  the 
Russian  agent  at  Kaka  frightened  his  Persian  guard 
from  going  on,  but  this  O'Donovan  found  a  positive 
advantage,  for  now  he  had  only  his  two  servants  to 
think  of,  and  was  really  free.  At  last  he  was  actually 
off  for  the  collection  of  settlements  known  to  the  world 
as  Merv.     Said  O'Donovan: 

"  Both  the  Russian  agent  and  the  Persian  escort  thought 
I  would  never  dare  venture  alone  across  the  desert.  .  .  . 
There  was  no  road  or  beaten  track  of  any  kind.  Sometimes 
I  plunged  into  deep  ravines,  densely  grown  with  giant 
weeds  and  cane  brakes.  Pheasants  rose  by  dozens  at  every 
twenty  yards.  Wild  boars  continually  plunged  with  a 
crashing  noise  through  the  reeds,  and  now  and  again  I 
caught  sight  of  a  leopard  or  lynx  stealing  away  deeper  into 
the  jungle.  The  entire  scene  was  one  of  primitive  nature. 
Very  probably  I  was  the  first  European  who  had  ever  trodden 
that  way." 


EDMOND  O'DONOVAN  237 

There  were  marauders  waiting  to  spy  and  waylay 
travelers  in  the  day  time  so  that  he  had  to  proceed 
at  night;  he  picked  his  way  along  by  the  light  of  a 
slender  moon.  At  dawn  he  crossed  a  stream  fifty 
yards  wide,  going  cautiously  and  in  a  zigzag  course, 
his  servants  kneeling  on  their  saddles  with  the  provision 
bags  on  their  shoulders.  For  several  hours  they  fared 
forward  over  the  hot  desert  until  an  obelisk  was  reached, 
marking  the  spot  where  there  ought  to  be  a  rain-water 
cistern.  The  cistern  was  dry  but  there  was  water 
enough  in  the  narrow  track  to  assuage  the  violent 
thirst  of  the  horses.  Entirely  spent  and  utterly  unable 
to  go  on,  O'Donovan  camped  among  some  tamarisk 
bushes  and  slept  through  a  storm  of  lightning  and 
soaking  rain.  Wet,  worn  and  hungry,  he  rode  in  the 
morning  straight  for  Merv.  As  the  first  huts  were 
reached  a  crowd  of  wild-looking  persons  stared  at  him. 
This  is  what  they  saw : 

"  I  might  have  passed  for  anything.  I  wore  an  enormous 
tiara  of  grayish-black  sheepskin,  eighteen  inches  in  height. 
Over  my  shoulders  was  a  drenched  leopard  skin,  beneath 
which  could  be  seen  my  travel-stained,  much  worn  over- 
coat. My  legs  were  caparisoned  in  long  black  boots,  armed 
with  great  steel  spurs,  appendages  utterly  unknown  in 
Turkestan.  A  sabre  and  revolving  carbine  completed  my 
outfit.  Some  people  may  wonder  why  I  did  not  assume  a 
style  of  dress  more  in  keeping  with  the  custom  of  the  country. 
I  had  considered  this  matter  carefully  before  deciding  upon 
the  irrevocable  step  toward  Merv.  I  could  speak  Jagatai 
Tartar  fairly  well,  and  my  sun-tanned  countenance  and 
passably  lengthy  beard  offered  no  extraordinary  contrast 
to  that  of  an  inhabitant,  but  my  accent,  and  a  thousand 
other  little  circumstances,  not  to  speak  of  the  indiscretion 
of  my  servants,  would  have  been  enough  infallibly  to  betray 
me.  To  appear  in  Turcoman  costume,  or  in  any  other 
which  tended  to  conceal  my  real  nationality  and  character. 


238      FAMOUS  WAR   CORRESPONDENTS 

would,  under  the  circumstances,  have  been  to  court  almost 
certain  destruction." 

Almost  at  once  he  began  to  realize  that  he  had 
faced  captivity  for  an  indefinite  period.  He  was  in 
the  heart  of  the  Turcoman  country  at  last;  his  goal 
had  been  reached,  but  what  a  reception  he  had.  Thus 
he  described  it: 

"The  circular  beehive  house  into  which  I  was  shown 
was  instantaneously  crowded  almost  to  suffocation.  Some 
one  pulled  off  my  wet  riding  boots,  after  a  prolonged  struggle; 
another  substituted  a  lambskin  mantle  for  my  drenched 
leopardskin  and  overcoat.  A  bowl  of  scalding  hot  green 
tea,  without  sugar,  and  tasting  like  a  dose  of  Epsom  salts, 
completed  my  material  comforts. 

"  I  sat  close  to  the  fire  and  warmed  my  shivering  members. 
All  the  time  the  assembled  people  were  gazing  at  me  with 
an  eagerness  of  expression  that  no  words  could  convey. 
They  apparently  thought  that  after  all  I  might  be  somebody 
mysteriously  connected  with  the  events  transpiring  so  near 
to  them,  and  who  had  come  among  them  on  a  friendly 
mission.  This  idea  was  still  further  propagated  by  the 
volubility  of  my  Kurd,  who,  in  the  last  agony  of  apprehension 
about  his  own  personal  well-being,  was  pouring  torrents 
of  lies  into  the  ears  of  his  auditory. 

"  Some  of  my  late  escort  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that 
they  believed  me  to  be  a  Russian,  and  that  I  came  to  Merv 
as  a  spy.  Their  expression  of  opinion  seemed  to  take  effect, 
and  I  could  see,  by  the  thinning  of  the  audience,  that  I 
was  losing  ground. 

"Then  a  great  fat  man,  with  a  mingled  expression  of 
ruffianism  and  humor,  came  in  and  asked  me  plainly  who 
and  what  I  was.  This  was  Beg  Murad  Khan,  a  gentleman 
whose  more  intimate  acquaintance  I  subsequently  made 
in  more  than  one  disagreeable  instance.  I  told  him  as  well 
as  I  could,  considering  that  the  language  was  Jagatai  Tartar, 
and  that  the  Turcomans  have  not  a  clearly  defined  notion 
of  the  functions  of  a  peripatetic  literary  man.  I  said  that 
I  could  set  myseK  right  in  a  few  days  by  despatching  a 


EDMOND   O'DONOVAN  239 

letter  to  the  British  native  agent  at  Meshed  by  the  caravan 
which  was  about  to  start.  This  proposition  was  met  by 
a  general  shout  of  warning  not  to  attempt  to  write  a  single 
word  or  my  throat  would  be  immediately  cut.  .  .  . 

"Struck  by  the  peculiarity  of  my  surroundings,  and 
wishing  to  chronicle  them  while  they  still  were  vividly 
impressed  upon  me,  I  once  ventured  to  produce  my  note- 
book and  jot  down  a  few  hurried  lines.  At  once  an  excited 
Turcoman  darted  from  the  hut  with  the  news  that  the 
Ferenghi  was  writing,  and  I  could  hear  the  recommendation 
to  finish  me  off  at  once  repeated  by  many  a  lip.  In  came 
the  humorous-looking  ruffian  again  to  assure  me  in  a  ve- 
hement manner  that  if  paper  and  pencil  were  again  seen  in 
my  hand  I  could  only  blame  myself  for  the  result." 

The  next  morning  they  were  off  for  Merv  itself, 
the  seat  of  the  Tekke  government,  and  the  "  mysterious 
goal  toward  which  he  had  been  so  long  looking  forward." 
Across  a  great  plain,  past  villages  of  beehive  shaped 
huts,  amid  corn  fields  and  melon  beds,  they  made 
their  way.  In  the  midst  of  a  cluster  of  two  hundred 
such  huts  was  a  small  red  banner  waving  from  a  lance 
shaft  lashed  to  the  top  of  a  pole.  Thus  was  marked 
the  residence  of  the  executive  chief  elected  by  the 
leading  persons  of  the  whole  Merv  district.  Beyond 
this  a  few  yards  was  a  fairly  large  pavilion  tent  of  a 
pale  blue  color  which  0*Donovan  learned  was  intended 
for  himself.  It  was  a  piece  of  the  spoil  taken  from 
the  Persians.  Within  was  a  thick  felt  mat,  covered 
with  a  Turcoman  carpet,  and  near  one  end  in  a  shallow 
pit  was  a  charcoal  fire. 

For  a  month  now  the  inquiring  Irishman  "lived 
inside  a  much-patronized  peep-show."  If  he  slept 
he  would  wake  to  find  people  staring  at  him  from 
inside  the  tent  and  from  every  nook  without.  At 
times  the  crowds  were  so  great  that  the  tent  reeled 


240     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and  swayed  and  threatened  to  collapse  and  once  it 
actually  did  come  down. 

Seven  days  after  his  arrival  there  was  a  general 
council  of  Merv  chiefs  for  the  consideration  of  his 
case.  About  two  hundred  were  seated  in  a  circle 
of  twenty  yards  diameter,  while  within  the  circle  on  a 
large  mat  sat  the  man  from  Dublin.  He  told  his 
story,  and  how  he  had  fled  before  Skobeleff's  horse 
to  their  protection;  he  showed  his  English  and  Persian 
documents  and  he  referred  them  to  the  British  agent 
at  Meshed  and  the  minister  at  Teheran.  At  length 
they  seemed  to  take  his  word  and  he  was  conducted 
back  to  his  tent  whence  he  could  hear  their  loud  and 
eager  debate.  Those  were  anxious  moments;  they 
might  sentence  him  to  immediate  execution.  After 
a  half -hour  they  told  him  that  he  was  not  to  be  slain, 
but  that  he  would  be  a  prisoner  until  they  could 
get  a  reply  from  Meshed.  They  built  a  comparatively 
cool  hut  for  him.  Seeing  that  his  dress  stirred  curiosity 
he  bought  in  a  bazaar  an  ordinary  Turcoman  costume. 
The  courier  brought  a  letter  from  Meshed  which 
certified  that  he  was  English  and  without  any  connec- 
tion with  the  Russian  expedition.  Thus  assured,  they 
placed  their  captive  at  comparative  liberty,  although  it 
was  evident  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of  hosts  who 
also  were  jailers. 

0*Donovan's  object  now  was  to  make  as  complete 
a  survey  as  possible  of  the  entire  Merv  district,  and 
to  learn  the  manners,  customs,  government  and  general 
tone  of  mind  of  the  people.  He  saw  seven  thousand 
of  their  young  men  constructing  fortifications  of  the 
sort  that  from  remote  antiquity  had  been  built  in 
those  regions,  huge  continuous  embankments,  forty 
feet  in  height,  made  of  tenacious  yellow  clay.    As  a 


EDMOND  O'DONOVAN  241 

sort  of  artillerist-in-chief  he  superintended  the  re- 
mounting of  the  guns  captured  from  the  Persians,  on 
carriages  sawed  out  of  the  trunks  of  trees.  He  noted 
that  the  key  to  the  entire  territory  was  the  water 
system  and  studied  their  irrigation  canals. 

Ere  long  the  adventurer  became  a  great  man  in 
Merv.  Letters  had  come  to  him  from  Teheran,  on 
the  strength  of  which  he  was  able  to  tell  them  that 
the  Russians  had  agreed  not  to  advance  further  east 
than  Askabad  and  that  they  were  not  coming  to  Merv. 
This  was  the  sequel: 

"  They  conducted  me  to  an  open  space  lying  between  the 
northern  and  southern  lines  of  evs  which  had  hitherto  been 
entirely  unoccupied.  To  my  great  surprise  I  found  that 
in  its  midst  was  being  constructed  a  kind  of  redoubt,  seventy 
or  eighty  yards  square,  on  which  nearly  a  hundred  men 
were  busily  engaged.  In  the  centre  of  this  space  was  an 
ev  in  course  of  erection.  The  wooden,  cage-like  framework 
was  already  reared,  and  half  a  dozen  women  were  occupied 
in  adjusting  the  felt  walls  and  roof.  To  this  I  was  led  by 
my  escort.  My  saddles,  arms,  bedding  and  other  effects 
were  piled  within  it,  and  the  two  Turcoman  servants  whom 
I  had  hired  were  busily  engaged  in  adjusting  the  carpet. 
.  .  .  *This,'  they  told  me,  *is  your  residence  as  a  Khan; 
for  the  medjlis  has  decided  that  you  are  to  be  accepted  here 
as  the  representative  of  the  English  Padishah.'  This 
was  almost  too  much  for  my  gravity,  but,  retaining  my 
self-possession,  I  simply  bowed,  as  if  all  this  were  only  a 
matter  of  course,  and,  sitting  upon  the  carpet  prepared  for 
me,  made  note  of  the  circumstances." 

Over  and  over  again  O'Donovan  had  protested 
that  he  had  no  pretensions  to  represent  the  British 
government,  and  that  his  mission  to  Merv  had  been 
undertaken  solely  with  the  view  of  ascertaining  the 
true  state  of  affairs  among  the  Turcomans  and  of 
informing  the  English  public  as  to  the  positions  rel- 


242     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

atively  of  the  Tekkes  and  the  Russians.  All  his 
endeavors  were  of  no  avail;  politics  was  a  very  lively 
occupation  in  Merv,  and  for  the  time  it  had  been 
arranged  that  the  eastern  and  western  divisions  of  the 
Turcomans  should  conduct  their  concerns  of  state 
under  the  guidance  of  their  own  immediate  chiefs. 
With  these  two  Khans,  as  a  representative  of  the 
English  nation  and  an  intermediary  between  the  Mervli 
and  the  English  Padisha,  the  Irishman  was  to  be 
associated.  The  Turcomans  held  him  in  a  kind  of 
honorable  captivity,  for  they  were  convinced  that 
in  some  fashion  he  had  rendered  them  a  great  service 
and  had  saved  them  from  the  Russian  invaders. 

His  installation,  although  he  was  not  quite  sure 
that  installation  was  the  correct  term  to  employ,  was 
a  ceremonious  occasion.  He  made  this  record  of  the 
event: 

"  It  was  a  curious  sight  that  I  gazed  upon  from  my  door. 
The  Murghab  flowed  sluggishly  by;  the  huge  mass  of  nearly 
completed  ramparts  rose  against  the  morning  sky,  covered 
with  thousands  of  spectators,  who  availed  themselves  of 
every  coign  of  vantage  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  doings  within 
my  redoubt.  From  moment  to  moment  the  guns  thundered 
out,  their  echoes  rolling  away  across  these  historic  plains. 
The  crimson  flag  flapped  and  fluttered  above  our  head; 
and  the  warriors  and  chiefs  of  Merv  in  their  best  and  brightest 
apparel,  grouped  around,  some  sitting,  some  standing,  pre- 
sented a  spectacle  the  theatrical  effect  of  which  was  only 
surpassed  by  its  poHtical  interest." 

Thus  Edmond  O'Donovan  was  duly  constituted 
a  member  of  the  Triumvirate  which  ruled  Merv. 
What  were  the  duties  of  his  exalted  position  he  knew 
not  at  all,  and,  indeed,  it  was  some  time  before  he 
discovered  that  he  was  not  only  a  Triumvir  but  the 
Chief   Triumvir,   the   President   of   the   Council.    A 


EDMOND  O'DONOVAN  243 

few  emoluments  came  with  the  oflSce,  and  there  were 
gifts  of  silken  mantles,  ornamented  skull  caps,  and 
a  gold  ring  with  a  cabalistic  inscription.  A  great 
crimson  banner  was  flung  to  the  breeze  before  his 
door.  He  had  to  learn  the  courtesies  of  his  station. 
There  were  visits  of  ceremony  to  pay  and  receive 
and  the  door  of  the  Khan  was  supposed  always  to 
be  open  and  his  hospitality  always  ready.  Above 
all,  the  Irish  Triumvir  tried  to  evade  all  complications 
of  a  political  or  an  international  nature.  Gradually 
he  acquired  a  large  fund  of  information  about  the 
surrounding  region  and  the  events  which  were  transpir- 
ing therein.  The  Turcomans  began  to  regard  him 
as  a  sort  of  naturalized  citizen;  they  turned  the  talk 
at  times  to  the  Koranic  doctrines  and  he  made  so 
much  progress  in  their  favor  that  they  intimated  that 
there  remained  no  obstacles  to  his  open  acceptance 
of  the  true  faith  with  its  responsibilities  and  its  im- 
plications. 

At  length,  and  somewhat  to  the  relief  of  the  foreign 
Triumvir,  for  matters  were  becoming  a  trifle  em- 
barrassing, there  came  a  letter,  covered  over  with 
imposing  seals,  from  the  British  Minister  at  the  capital 
of  Persia.  The  writer  declared  that  O'Donovan's 
presence  was  required  at  once  in  England,  for  the 
British  government  desired  that  the  traveler  should 
come  in  person  to  render  an  account  of  his  observations 
in  Merv.  The  visitor  seized  the  opportunity  to  urge 
his  release,  but  there  were  vexing  delays  and  many 
an  anxious  experience  to  endure  ere  he  was  permitted 
to  set  his  face  homewards. 

There  was  first  a  weary  wait  for  the  general  medjlis 
which  his  fellow  Triumvirs  assured  him  must  be  held 
before  it  would  be  proper  for  him  to  go.     Excuses 


244     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

multiplied,  until  at  last  O'Donovan  ventured  to 
present  his  ultimatum;  he  declared  that  he  would 
leave  within  three  days  at  the  most.  Circumstances 
befriended  him  quite  opportunely.  Scouts  brought 
tidings  of  Cossack  horsemen  with  whom  were  persons 
with  "divers  wonderful  and  dreadful  engines'*  march- 
ing about  the  frontier.  What  they  had  seen  were 
the  engineers  with  their  theodolites  who  were  surveying 
the  region.  The  ingenious  Irishman  seized  this  report 
"as  a  drowning  man  grasps  at  a  straw;"  he  affirmed 
that  the  fate  of  Merv  depended  upon  a  meeting  of 
the  ambassadors  of  Europe  at  Meshed. 

But  the  Turcomans  blandly  told  the  Triumvir 
that  the  ladies  of  Merv  were  greatly  opposed  to  his 
leaving  them.  Perhaps  the  wily  and  dilatory  Tur- 
comans were  arguing  better  than  they  knew,  for  what 
Irishman  is  there  who  will  not  go  out  of  his  way  to 
oblige  a  lady?  However,  O'Donovan,  almost  at  his 
wit's  end,  sent  to  Meshed  and  obtained  four  bags  of 
silver  as  an  appeal  to  the  cupidity  of  his  amiable 
captors,  distributing  the  coins  judiciously  among  the 
influential  men  of  the  settlements.  The  delays  came 
to  an  end  at  last  and  the  general  conference  was  held. 
"It  was  an  imposing  spectacle,"  said  O'Donovan. 
"Close  by  rose  the  frowning  front  of  the  newly- 
completed  fortress.  About  me  in  their  picturesque 
garbs  were  the  redoubtable  robber  chiefs  of  Central  Asia. 
Some  thousands  of  people,  grouped  in  knots,  surrounded 
us  at  a  short  distance,  and  more  than  a  hundred  horse- 
men were  close  upon  the  edge  of  the  circle  listening 
eagerly  to  every  word  that  passed." 

In  turn  O'Donovan  rose  to  speak  and  the  entire 
assemblage  listened  in  a  stillness  so  profound  that 
it  was  painful.     He  kept  his  self-possession  and  made 


EDMOND  O'DONOVAN  245 

his  points  without  undue  emphasis  upon  the  personal 
issues  which  were  distressing  himself.  The  roll  was 
called  by  the  "Old  Man  of  the  Sword,"  the  vote  was 
in  his  favor  and  formal  assent  was  given  to  his  departure. 

After  six  months  in  Merv,  he  started  upon  his 
homeward  journey.  He  had  quite  lost  count  of  the 
days  of  the  month  and  week,  and  recovered  the  calendar 
at  the  sacred  city.  He  was  again  a  very  sick  man  at 
Meshed  and  was  carried  in  a  sort  of  hammock  swung 
between  two  horses  to  Teheran,  arriving  at  the  capi- 
tal more  dead  than  alive. 

By  way  of  Odessa  he  reached  Constantinople  on 
November  26,  1881,  having  spent  four  months  on  the 
way  from  Merv.  He  had  set  out  from  Trebizond 
almost  three  years  before;  a  romantic  and  unique 
experience  had  come  to  an  end.  Upon  his  return  to 
England  he  learned  that  his  release  was  due  partly 
to  his  own  boldness  and  tact  and  in  part  to  the  adroit 
diplomacy  of  Lord  Granville.  From  Teheran  the 
situation  had  been  communicated  to  Sir  John  Robin- 
son of  the  Daily  News  and  he  had  set  in  operation  the 
machinery  of  the  Foreign  Office.  In  London  the 
Triumvir  of  Merv  was  given  an  enthusiastic  reception 
and  he  delivered  a  lecture  before  the  Royal  Geograph- 
ical Society. 

The  following  year,  Major  Hicks,  an  English 
Indian  officer,  made  his  disastrous  march  in  the  Soudan, 
some  particulars  of  which  are  narrated  in  the  chapter 
devoted  to  the  five  Vizetellys.  His  Egyptian  troops 
were  unmitigated  cowards,  who  had  made  the  first 
stage  of  their  journey  as  impressed  men  with  iron 
collars  riveted  to  their  necks  and  chains  attached  to 
the  collars  lest  they  should  run  away. 

On  November  23,  1883,  the  news  reached  England 


U6     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

that  Hicks  Pasha's  force  had  been  completely  de- 
stroyed. With  the  troops  was  Edmond  O'Donovan 
for  the  Daily  News,  but  the  particulars  of  his  death 
are  not  known.  In  the  crypt  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral 
one  of  the  memorials  to  war  correspondents  bears 
the  names  of  six  men  who  died  in  the  Soudan  between 
1883  and  1885.  The  first  to  fall  were  Vizetelly  and 
O'Donovan,  at  Cashgill,  probably  on  November  4. 
The  first  name  of  the  six  upon  the  tablet  is  that  of 
the  some-time  Triumvir  of  Merv. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS 

*'  The  old  spirit  of  my  Italian  sires,  the  spirit  of  love  and  battle  and 
adventure,  still  displayed  itself  in  one  or  another  of  each  generation  of  my 
race.  It  had  carried  one  of  my  grandfather's  brothers  to  India,  to  fight, 
love,  and  be  murdered  there  in  old  Company  days;  it  had  made  one  of  my 
father's  brothers  a  nineteenth-century  condottiere,  battling  in  either  hemis- 
phere, an  example  largely  followed  by  one  of  my  own  brothers.  And  for 
years  my  life  had  been  romance  —  real  romance  in  the  midst  of  the 
workaday  nineteenth  century.  '* 

— Ernest  Alfred  Vizetelly. 

Of  the  five  members  of  the  Vizetelly  family  who 
must  be  enrolled  in  the  honorable  fraternity  of  war 
correspondents  only  one  survives,  Ernest  Alfred  Vizet- 
elly, who  at  seventeen  went  to  the  Franco-Prussian 
war  as  the  youngest  special  of  whom  there  is  record, 
and  who  now  is  well-known  as  journalist,  author 
and  translator.  The  father,  Henry  Richard  Vizetelly, 
was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Illustrated  London  News, 
and  for  years  was  a  special  for  that  journal,  witnessing 
all  the  scenes  of  the  siege  of  Paris  by  the  Germans 
and  of  the  Commune.  Another  son,  Edward  Henry 
Vizetelly,  was  with  Garibaldi  in  1870  in  the  Vosges, 
and,  after  having  served  in  campaigns  in  various  parts 
of  Europe,  Asia  and  Africa,  he  ended  the  spectacular 
part  of  his  career  by  carrying  the  American  flag, 
as  the  special  representative  of  James  Gordon  Bennett, 
to  meet  Stanley  when  he  emerged  from  the  interior 
of  "darkest  Africa"  with  Emin  Pasha  in  1889.  There 
was  also  a  nephew,  Montague  Vizetelly,  who  did  time 
with  the  Italian  army  in  Abyssinia.  In  some  ways 
the  most  remarkable  of  this  group  of  newspaper  men 
was  Frank  Vizetelly,  who,  after  having  reported  Sol- 


248      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ferino,  Garibaldi's  campaign  of  1860,  the  Civil  War 
in  America,  Sadowa,  and  the  Carlist  rising  of  1873, 
lost  his  life  in  the  massacre  to  which  Hicks  Pasha 
carelessly  marched  in  the  Soudan  in  1883. 

Henry  Vizetelly  was  descended  from  an  Italian 
family  which  came  from  Venice  to  England  in  the 
spacious  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  was  born  in 
London  in  1820.  As  a  "sort  of  revelation"  there 
came  to  him  the  suggestion  of  a  newspaper  with  every 
number  more  or  less  filled  with  engravings.  Herbert 
Ingram  had  conceived  the  idea  of  an  illustrated  criminal 
record,  and  out  of  the  association  of  these  two  men 
appeared  in  1842  the  first  number  of  The  Illustrated 
London  News,  l^he  first  journal  of  the  kind  to  be  estab- 
lished in  any  country.  A  suggestion  of  the  change 
which  has  been  wrought  in  the  course  of  time  is  found 
in  the  statement  of  Vizetelly  that  "any  kind  of  views 
of  such  localities  as  were  then  the  seat  of  war  in  China 
and  Afghanistan  were  only  to  be  procured  with  the 
greatest  difficulty." 

The  following  year  Ingram  and  Vizetelly  parted 
company  and  the  latter  established  The  Pictorial 
Times »  Among  his  contributors  were  Douglas  Jerrold, 
Thackeray  and  Mark  Lemon,  and  before  he  sold 
out  to  give  his  attention  to  the  printing  of  illustrated 
books  for  all  the  publishers  of  the  city  he  had  had  the 
satisfaction  of  publishing  in  his  journal  Hood's  famous 
"Bridge  of  Sighs."  About  1855  he  again  ventured 
into  the  field  of  illustrated  periodicals  with  the  Times, 
acquiring  a  staff  which  included  Edmund  Yates  and 
George  Augustus  Sala,  and  such  artists  as  Gustave 
Dore  and  Hablot  Browne.  His  success  was  tremen- 
dous; of  the  first  number  there  were  advance 
orders  for  100,000  copies.     In  1859  Vizetelly  sold  the 


^    2 


$1 

W    § 


o 
>*  a 
Oi    .2 

K  "a 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  249 

paper  to  the  News  and  took  service  with  Ingram, 
going  to  Paris  in  1864  as  correspondent  and  general 
representative  on  the  Continent  for  that  journal. 

With  the  coming  of  the  war  of  1870  arrived  the 
heroic  period  of  the  life  of  Henry  Vizetelly.  Now  the 
special  correspondent  was  merged  into  the  war  corre- 
spondent. When  the  newspaper  specials  with  the 
French  army  were  no  longer  heading  their  letters, 
"From  Paris  to  Berlin;"  when  noisy  throngs  in  the 
city  were  no  more  shouting  the  Marseillaise;  when 
after  having  been  vain  and  demonstrative  the  people 
had  become  silent  and  stern;  when  the  tidings  of  Sedan 
came,  there  followed  in  quick  succession  the  downfall 
of  the  ministry,  of  the  dynasty,  and  of  the  Empire. 
A  Government  of  National  Defense  was  organized. 
Paris  welcomed  the  revolution  with  paroxysms  of  joy. 
Victor  Hugo,  the  exile  of  Jersey,  returned  and  received 
ovations  on  the  boulevards.  Crowds  of  well-dressed 
people  watched  the  work  of  demolition  for  the  clearing 
of  a  military  zone  for  the  defense  of  the  city.  Melan- 
choly processions  made  their  way  into  the  city 
from  the  country  without,  "poor  households,  with 
everything  they  possessed,  shabby  bedding,  rickety 
chairs  and  tables,  cracked  crockery  and  bundles, 
stacked  haphazard  in  tottering  carts  drawn  by  bony 
horses,  or  piled  on  trucks  and  pushed  by  weary  men, 
women  and  children,  dusty  and  travel-stained.'* 

On  Sunday,  September  18,  a  splendid  autumnal 
day,  a  gay  crowd  watched  the  city  preparing  for  war. 
Far  into  the  night  telegrams  kept  coming  from  all 
points  of  the  environs  to  the  government.  That  was 
the  last  day  of  liberty.  On  Monday,  September  19, 
Paris  awoke  to  the  booming  of  cannon.  There  were 
no  letters,  no  papers  from  outside;  the  telegraph  wires 


250     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

were  severed,  the  railway  lines  were  cut;  Paris  was 
isolated.  The  multitudes  were  locked  in  the  city  by 
the  German  invaders. 

Couriers  were  tried;  one  day  of  twenty-eight  sent 
out  only  two  got  through  the  lines  of  investment  and 
all  the  rest  had  to  return.  Occasionally  a  messenger 
wriggled  in  from  the  outside  carrying  letters  and 
cipher  messages,  secreted  sometimes  beneath  the 
skin,  or  hidden  in  coat  buttons  and  in  coins  specially 
prepared.  But  land  and  water  were  closed  and  only 
the  air  remained,  and  to  the  air  the  Parisians  and 
the  newspaper  men  in  the  city  turned  their  attention. 

On  September  23,  all  Paris  watched  the  sending 
up  of  the  first  balloon,  which  carried  three  mail  bags 
with  25,000  letters.  The  aeronaut  watched  the  Ger- 
man cannon  balls  soar  and  fall,  passed  the  lines  of 
the  besieging  army  with  safety,  and  made  a  landing. 
The  second  balloon  left  two  days  later,  only  to  be 
becalmed,  and  before  the  Seine  was  crossed  three 
bundles  of  letters,  ten  bags  of  ballast  and  the  seats 
of  the  car  had  to  be  tossed  overboard,  but  carrier 
pigeons  came  back  with  the  news  of  a  successful 
voyage  among  the  clouds.  A  decree  was  issued 
limiting  the  weight  of  all  letters  to  an  eighth  of  an 
ounce  and  the  manufacture  of  an  aerial  flotilla  for 
postal  purposes  was  begun. 

The  story  of  the  balloon  post  and  the  carrier  pigeon 
service  during  the  siege  of  Paris  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  in  the  history  of  journalism.  The  balloons 
used  were  capable  of  sustaining  a  weight  of  something 
more  than  half  a  ton  and  of  floating  in  the  air  for  a 
period  of  ten  hours.  Such  names  as  Vauban,  Gari- 
baldi, Lafayette,  Galileo  and  Daguerre  were  bestowed 
upon  them,  quite  in  the  French  fashion.     The  balloon 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  251 

cannon  of  the  Germans  were  not  able  to  stop  the 
flight  of  these  aerial  voyagers,  although  occasionally, 
through  the  inexperience  of  some  improvised  aeronaut 
or  some  sudden  escape  of  gas,  one  would  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  After  a  time  all  balloons  left 
the  beleaguered  city  under  cover  of  darkness,  but 
the  winds  played  queer  pranks  with  them,  and  during 
one  period  of  ten  days  none  was  able  to  soar  out 
of  Paris.  The  Archimede  came  down  in  Holland,  the 
Ville  d'Orleans  was  carried  across  the  North  Sea  to 
Norway,  a  distance  of  eight  hundred  and  forty  miles, 
which  was  covered  in  sixteen  hours,  and  the  Jacquard 
was  lost  at  sea,  being  sighted  last  when  five  miles 
from  the  Eddystone  light-house.  In  all  sixty-four 
balloons  left  the  city  during  the  siege,  carrying  in 
addition  to  their  pilots  nearly  a  hundred  passengers 
and  more  than  three  millions  of  letters  of  three 
grammes  each. 

Vizetelly  was  using  the  balloons  for  news  purposes, 
but  of  the  fate  of  his  letters  and  sketches  he  was 
seldom  informed.  He  was  aware  that  it  was  necessary 
to  take  every  precaution  to  secure  the  transmission 
of  news  to  his  journal,  and  he  therefore  made  three 
photographs  of  every  sketch  that  he  sent  out  of  the 
city,  and  placed  the  original  and  the  photographs  in 
four  different  balloons.  Frequently  all  of  them  reached 
London  safely,  but  sometimes  only  one  arrived. 
Some  came  to  the  hands  of  the  English  editors  by  way 
of  Norway,  and  one,  picked  up  by  a  passing  steamship, 
actually  returned  to  England  from  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope.  Through  the  vigilance  of  the  Paris  corre- 
spondent, the  News  was  able  to  illustrate  almost  every 
incident  of  importance  through  the  four  months  of 
the  siege.    About  twice  a  week  Vizetelly  would  ascer- 


252     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

tain  when  the  next  balloon  was  to  sail,  and  "after 
all  the  cab-horses  had  been  eaten,"  wrote  he,  **I 
was  accustomed  an  hour  before  daybreak  to  trudge 
to  one  or  another  distant  railway  station  where  the 
balloon  was  to  ascend,  to  find  far  more  often  than 
was  agreeable  that,  from  the  wind  being  in  the  wrong 
quarter,  no  ascent  could  be  attempted  that  day.  .  .  . 
Walking  six  or  eight  miles  in  the  cold  and  rain  would 
have  been  easy  but  for  an  empty  stomach." 

What  tidings  came  back  to  Paris  were  brought 
by  carrier  pigeons.  The  "arrival  pigeons"  were 
despatched  with  information  of  the  place  of  a  balloon's 
descent  and  news  from  the  provinces.  Many  of  them 
were  found  to  be  wounded  by  the  rifle  bullets  of  the 
Germans,  but  more  were  lost  on  the  road,  for  the 
season  was  not  favorable  to  them,  mists  obscuring 
their  sight  and  cold  paralyzing  their  strength.  The 
"departure  pigeons,"  more  than  a  thousand  in  number, 
were  the  most  perfectly  trained  birds  to  be  had  in 
all  France;  their  speed  was  estimated  at  more  than  a 
thousand  yards  a  minute.  The  despatches  borne 
by  them  were  usually  placed  in  a  quill  fastened  to  a 
tail-feather  that  remained  immovable  when  the  birds 
spread  the  tail  to  fly.  The  messages  were  always  in 
cipher.  An  elaborate  system  of  queries  and  answers 
was  finally  developed  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
people  of  the  city  and  their  anxious  friends  without. 
These,  written  without  cipher,  were  limited  to  twenty 
words,  including  names  and  addresses,  containing 
no  military  information,  and  for  which  a  charge  of 
half  a  franc  a  word  was  levied.  These  were  then  set 
in  type,  printed  and  photographed,  and  thus  they 
were  made  legible  and  their  size  was  reduced  to  a 
trifle  more  than  an  inch  square.      The  plan  was  an 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  253 

enormous  success.  The  three  birds  first  sent  carried 
a  thousand  despatches  with  information  for  ten  thou- 
sand persons.  For  paper  there  were  finally  substituted 
thin  films  of  collodion,  ten  times  as  thin  and  light  as 
the  lightest  and  thinnest  tissue. 

Vizetelly  had  his  adventures  during  this  siege; 
several  times  he  was  arrested  in  various  parts  of  th^ 
city  but  his  incarcerations  did  not  last  long.  As  the 
usual  passports  were  not  recognized  by  his  captors, 
he  took  pains  to  carry  about  with  him  receipts  for 
rent  dating  back  several  years  or  old  butchers'  bills, 
as  proof  that  he  was  an  old  resident  of  the  city,  and 
these  he  found  more  serviceable  by  far  than  any 
documents  surmounted  by  the  royal  arms  or  signed 
by  the  British  Secretary  of  State.  The  craze  which 
he  dubbed  "spyophobia"  had  seized  the  Parisians. 
No  one  was  immune  from  suspicion.  A  light  in  an 
attic  was  a  "signal,"  the  white  hands  of  a  woman 
were  "evidence."  G.  A.  Sala  was  cast  into  a  filthy 
cell,  Henry  Labouchere  was  in  danger,  and  the  Figaro 
started  the  notion  that  the  blind  beggars  of  Paris 
were  spies. 

But  hunger  was  the  great  enemy.  Queue  after 
queue  formed  before  the  butchers'  shops  as  the  people 
with  pinched  faces  shivered  and  waited  for  their 
meagre  dole  of  rations.  Vizetelly's  concierge  devoted 
herself  to  the  breeding  of  rabbits  secretly  in  the  deserted 
stables  of  the  house  in  which  he  lived,  but  she 
demanded  sixty  and  seventy  francs  each  for  them, 
and  eventually  found  a  buyer  only  in  the  chef  of  Baron 
Rothschild.  When  the  surrender  at  last  could  be 
delayed  no  longer,  there  was  not  a  cat  left  in  the  city, 
mules  and  horses  had  been  eaten,  and  even  the  ele- 
phants on  which  the  children  rode  in  the  parks  had 


254     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

been  slain.  Potatoes  cost  eight  pence  each  and  eggs 
three  shillings  apiece.  On  February  29,  1871,  the 
walls  were  placarded  with  a  document  declaring  that 
"heartbroken  with  grief"  the  defenders  laid  aside 
their  arms,  "surrendering  only  to  famine." 

The  correspondent  of  the  News  was  not  in  the  city 
through  the  entire  siege.  He  was  in  bad  health,  and, 
having  arranged  with  a  draughtsman,  photographers 
and  aeronauts  for  the  transmission  of  messages  as 
long  as  the  siege  might  still  continue,  he  accepted  the 
last  opportunity  afforded  foreigners  to  quit  the  city, 
and  with  his  son  was  taken  through  the  lines.  Having 
seen  his  family,  he,  with  his  son,  joined  the  army  of 
General  Chanzy,  and  almost  at  once  both  were  arrested 
and  threatened  with  lynching  out  of  hand.  A  crowd 
of  infuriated  National  Guards,  who  saw  a  spy  in  every 
stranger  and  a  signal  in  the  production  of  an  ordinary 
pocket  handkerchief,  were  for  shooting  or  drowning 
the  father  and  son  summarily,  but  luckily  a  half- 
dozen  gendarmes  stood  firm  with  fixed  bayonets  and 
held  ofiP  the  yelling  mob,  and  General  Chanzy  was 
satisfied  with  their  papers.  They  were  liberated, 
only  within  an  hour  to  be  arrested  again,  when  they 
saw  how  hopeless  it  was  to  stay  with  this  force  and 
left  for  other  scenes  of  the  war. 

When  the  news  of  the  capitulation  of  Paris  reached 
Henry  Vizetelly,  he  at  once  secured  the  necessary 
passports  and,  with  two  of  his  sons,  Ernest  and  Arthur, 
returned  to  the  capital.  On  March  1,  he  saw  the 
mounted  Germans  ride  beneath  the  Arc  de  Triomphe 
in  all  the  pride  of  conquest.  He  witnessed  the 
horrors  of  the  Commune,  and  during  the  carnage  in 
the  streets  was  often  in  peril. 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  U5 

Emest  Alfred  Vizetelly  was  born  in  1853,  and, 
therefore,  was  but  seventeen  years  old  when  he  took 
service  in  the  war  between  France  and  Germany 
as  a  correspondent  and  artist  for  the  Daily  News, 
the  Pall  Mall  Gazette^  and  the  Illustrated  London  News, 
With  his  father  he  experienced  the  hardships  and 
dangers  of  the  siege  of  Paris.  Wedged  in  a  corner 
beside  a  statue  in  the  Assembly  Hall,  with  men  fighting 
their  way  in  and  out,  he  witnessed  many  of  the  scenes 
attending  the  fall  of  the  Empire,  and  when  a  "wave 
of  surging  men"  landed  him  on  the  floor  of  the  House 
near  the  tribune  he  heard  Gambetta  declaring  that 
"Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte  and  his  Dynasty  have 
forever  ceased  to  reign  over  France."  Through  the 
days  of  the  siege  he  was  out  and  about  the  city,  and 
his  evenings  were  given  to  writing  and  to  copying 
thumb-nail  sketches. 

His  father  having  gone  on  to  England,  the  boy 
became  a  war  correspondent  on  his  own  account, 
with  no  regular  connection,  but  from  Le  Mans,  where  all 
supplies  for  both  the  army  of  the  Loire  and  for  the  relief 
of  Paris  were  collected.  He  sent  news  to  his  brother 
in  London,  who  placed  his  copy,  all  of  which  was  printed. 
After  the  battle  of  Le  Mans,  fought  for  three  days 
amidst  snow  and  ice  by  130,000  combatants,  other 
correspondents  were  shut  up  in  the  town,  but  the 
boy  escaped  in  a  train  and  wrote  a  long  article  which 
was  the  first  account  of  Chanzy's  overthrow  to  appear 
in  England  with  the  exception  of  a  few  curt  despatches. 
The  lad's  own  description  of  his  manner  of  life  at 
that  time,  found  in  one  of  his  novels  of  an  autobio- 
graphical character,  may  be  quoted: 

"It  was  a  wonderful  and  an  awful  business.  A  Siberian 
temperature,  incessant  snowstorms,  whole  regiments  desert- 


^56     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ing,  railway  lines  blocked  for  miles  by  trains  crammed  with 
supplies  for  Paris;  roads  similarly  blocked  by  all  the  endless 
impedimenta  of  Chanzy's  forces;  horses  dying  by  the  way- 
side; famished  soldiers  cutting  steaks  from  the  flanks  of 
the  dead  beasts  and  devouring  them  raw;  others  —  hundreds, 
if  not  thousands  —  without  proper  footgear;  some  in  boots 
of  English  make,  whose  composition  soles  had  disappeared, 
leaving  the  uppers  behind,  others  in  ssbots,  others  again 
merely  with  rags  around  their  feet,  and  yet  others  who 
trudged  along  absolutely  barefooted,  their  toes  frostbitten, 
until  they  fell  despairing  and  exhausted  on  the  snow  to 
perish  there.  .  .  . 

"Stoutly  shod,  wearing  a  heavy  coat  of  Irish  frieze 
specially  sent  me,  I  myself  largely  walked,  only  now  and 
then  securing  a  seat  in  one  of  the  few  trains  which  were 
run  over  some  short  distance  for  some  very  special  military 
purpose.  There  could  be  no  thought  of  a  mount  when 
horses  were  dying  of  exhaustion  and  starvation  all  around 
one.  And  I  slept  anywhere,  even  as  thousands  slept,  glad 
some  nights  of  a  corner  on  the  stone  flags  of  a  cottage  deserted 
by  its  owners." 

It  was  a  "miniature  retreat  from  Moscow."  Then 
Paris  fell  and  in  forty-eight  hours  the  lad  was  on  his 
way  thither  with  his  father  and  one  of  his  brothers. 
From  the  time  of  the  armistice  to  the  end  of  the 
"Bloody  Week,"  Ernest  Vizetelly  saw  and  helped  to 
report  almost  every  incident  of  importance  in  and 
about  the  city.  He  saw  the  fall  of  the  Vendome 
column,  he  sketched  the  attack  on  the  Elysee  Palace 
from  a  balcony  which  was  carried  away  by  a  shell 
a  few  minutes  after  he  left  it,  and  he  saw  the  street 
fighting  and  the  conflagrations.  On  Thursday  of 
the  "Bloody  Week"  he  and  two  others  were  fired  upon 
as  they  stood  in  the  street  by  secreted  Communists. 
One  of  the  three  fell  into  the  arms  of  the  other  two, 
spattering  them  with  blood;   one  bullet  grazed   the 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  257 

neck  of  the  correspondent,  and  others  lodged  in  the 
shutters  of  a  shop  in  which  he  found  a  refuge. 

For  years  after  the  fall  of  the  Commune  he 
continued  on  the  Continent  as  a  journalist,  making 
journeys  with  his  father  in  Austria,  Spain,  Italy  and 
Portugal.  Going  to  London  in  1886  he  embarked  in 
publishing  enterprises,  preparing  also  English  versions 
of  the  Zola  novels. 

Montague  Vizetelly,  born  in  1846,  was  the  son  of 
Henry  Richard  Vizetelly's  older  brother,  and  from 
1867  to  1869  was  Paris  correspondent  for  an  English 
periodical.  When  the  war  which  culminated  with  the 
capture  of  the  French  capital  began  he  was  commis- 
sioned by  the  Daily  News  to  accompany  the  army  of 
the  Loire,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Germans  at 
the  battle  of  Le  Mans.  After  some  sixteen  years  of 
journalistic  work  he  was  sent  out  by  The  Times  to 
the  Italian  campaign  in  Abyssinia,  witnessing  all 
the  important  engagements  until  the  Italian  protector- 
ate was  tacitly  acknowledged  by  King  Menelek. 
For  the  Financial  Times  he  went  with  Colonel  North, 
"the  nitrate  king,"  to  South  America,  and  returned 
by  way  of  Panama  during  the  French  excavation 
period.  The  Manchester  Courier  then  sent  him  to 
Newfoundland  to  investigate  the  fisheries  problem. 
He  was  later  attached  to  the  staffs  of  the  Daily  Chronicle 
and  the  Morning  Advertiser  as  a  specialist  on  military 
subjects.  Montague  Vizetelly  was  also  the  **Cap- 
tious  Critic"  of  the  Illustrated  Sporting  and  Dramatic 
News.     His  death  occurred  in  1897. 

The  career  of  Frank  Vizetelly  was  most  eventful 
and  his  end  was  tragic.  He  was  the  youngest  of  the 
four  brothers  of  whom  Henry  Richard  was  the  second 


258     FAMOUS  WAR   CORRESPONDENTS 

and  the  father  of  Montague  was  the  first.  Bom  in 
1830,  Frank  was  brought  up  by  Henry  to  newspaper 
work  with  the  Illustrated  Times,  and  his  first  exploit 
was  achieved  when  Henry  sent  him  to  Paris  after  the 
birth  of  the  Prince  Imperial.  By  some  ingenious 
means  he  managed  to  secure  admission  to  the  presence 
of  the  Emperor.  Napoleon  III.  remained  in  conver- 
sation with  him  for  some  little  time,  while  the  audacious 
young  journalist  was  rapidly  sketching  a  portrait 
in  the  nursery  of  the  child  for  publication  in  an  English 
illustrated  weekly.  When  the  war  between  Sardinia 
and  Austria  began  he  was  sent  to  Italy  to  sketch  the 
campaign  for  the  London  paper,  and  soon  was  for- 
warding breezy  accounts  of  his  personal  adventures 
and  spirited  drawings  of  military  events.  At  Ales- 
sandria he  was  arrested  as  a  spy,  and  prevented  from 
reaching  the  front  in  time  for  the  battle  of  Magenta. 

He  watched  the  great  battle  of  Solferino  from  the 
hill  upon  which  Victor  Emmanuel  and  the  oflScers 
of  his  staff  were  grouped.  The  king  was  so  absorbed 
with  the  conflict  and  the  slaking  of  his  thirst  with  an 
iron  ladle  from  a  rather  decrepit  bucket  full  of  water 
that  he  did  not  notice  the  English  artist  busily  sketch- 
ing several  portraits  of  himself  and  his  chief  aides 
for  a  London  periodical. 

To  Sicily  the  artist  was  sent  by  the  Illustrated 
London  News  when  Garibaldi  made  his  famous  expe- 
dition of  The  Thousand  in  1860.  Early  in  May  he 
arrived  at  Messina.  Garibaldi  at  the  time  was  half 
way  across  the  island  at  Palermo  and  how  to  reach 
him  was  a  problem.  The  Neapolitan  officers  would 
allow  no  passenger  steamers  to  leave  port  for  Palermo 
and  Neapolitan  troops  patrolled  the  roads  with  orders 
to   stop   travelers.    Vizetelly   secured    aid   from   the 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  259 

skipper  of  a  small  coasting  vessel  who,  like  most 
Sicilians,  was  secretly  in  sympathy  with  the  red- 
shirted  invaders.  In  the  rig  of  a  Sicilian  mariner, 
with  the  regulation  red  Phrygian  cap,  the  artist  made 
the  trip.  He  was  entered  duly  as  one  of  the  crew 
under  the  name  "Francesco  Vizetelli."  When  he 
landed,  Garibaldi  was  fighting  his  way  inch  by  inch, 
house  by  house,  and  street  by  street,  through  the 
city.  In  the  opinion  of  George  Macaulay  Trevelyan, 
the  biographer  of  the  leader  of  The  Thousand,  Vizet- 
elly*s  reports  of  the  campaign  from  this  time  on, 
derived  largely  from  the  narratives  of  the  Garibaldini 
with  whom  he  lived  on  intimate  terms,  and  his  pictures 
of  the  incidents  of  that  thrilling  period,  are  of  great 
historical  value. 

The  street  fighting  was  at  its  height  when  Vizetelly 
arrived.  He  spent  hours  sketching  unburied  corpses, 
and  ultimately  came  down  with  a  fever,  due  to  the 
odor,  so  it  is  said,  of  the  dead  bodies  which  for  some 
time  littered  the  streets.  After  some  dayp  he  followed 
Garibaldi  on  the  march  to  Messina,  and  was  at  his 
side  during  the  fight  at  Melazzo  when  he  sabred  the 
Neapolitan  commander.  Various  personal  adventures 
befell  the  special  during  the  march  through  the  interior. 
In  a  lonely  spot  he  was  attacked  by  brigands  and  the 
horses  of  his  carriage  galloped  him  to  safety.  At 
Villafrati  he  met  Alexandre  Dumas  pere,  who  was 
following  the  column  through  Sicily  with  an  escort 
of  young  Frenchmen,  and  "throwing  off  as  many 
sheets  of  copy  in  an  hour  as  a  cylinder  machine  would 
print  in  the  same  time,"  in  the  composition  of  the 
history  of  the  revolution  which  "in  reality  is  a  Sicilian 
romance." 

With   Garibaldi   the   artist   went   on   to   Naples. 


260     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

One  of  the  most  spirited  of  his  drawings  is  that  which 
shows  the  NeapoHtans  marching  jubilantly  through 
their  streets  to  vote  for  annexation  to  the  new  Italy 
then  in  process  of  creation,  wearing  placards  upon 
their  breasts  and  carrying  big  flags,  both  inscribed 
with  the  all-sufficient  word  **Si."  The  pages  of  his 
paper  are  full  of  his  pictures  of  camp  scenes,  skirmishes, 
charges,  incidents  of  every  sort  which  he  witnessed 
in  that  most  remarkable  of  campaigns.  The  fire 
that  burned  in  the  heart  of  Garibaldi  himself  seems 
to  have  been  burning  also  in  the  heart  of  the  corre- 
spondent. He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  gigantic 
Colonel  Peard,  "Garibaldi's  Englishman."  He  saw 
Victor  Emmanuel  arrive  at  St.  Angelo  and  contrived 
to  meet  him,  just  as  he  had  managed  to  get  access 
to  Louis  Napoleon,  and  with  humorous  audacity  he 
reminded  the  king  of  the  battered  bucket  and  the 
iron  ladle  on  the  hill  at  Solferino.  He  saw  the  fall 
of  Gaeta  also,  and  finally  he  went  with  Garibaldi  to 
his  little  island  kingdom  of  Caprera,  where  he  spent  a 
fortnight  making  sketches  of  the  house,  the  garden, 
and  the  rocks  piled  about  the  door,  and  going  on 
fishing  excursions  with  the  man  who  had  triumphantly 
completed  an  enterprise  which  had  electrified  England 
and  amazed  the  world. 

In  1861,  he  was  off  to  America  for  the  News.  He 
met  "Billy"  Russell,  a  friend  of  the  Vizetelly  family, 
in  Washington.  On  the  expedition  of  General  Burn- 
side  to  Roanoke  Island  he  was  given  a  berth  aboard 
the  commander's  ship,  but  upon  his  return  to  the  capi- 
tal he  was  refused  permission  to  join  General  McClel- 
lan,  whereupon  he  hurried  to  St.  Louis  to  follow  the 
Mississippi  flotilla  of  gunboats.  For  two  months 
he  steamed  up  and  down  the  river  making  sketches 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  261 

of  engagements.  Having  seen  the  taking  of  Memphis 
by  the  Federals,  he  came  back  again  to  Washington 
and  there  found  Secretary  Seward  obdurate  in  his 
refusal  to  allow  him  to  join  McClellan  before  Rich- 
mond. Vizetelly  was  not  at  all  disposed  to  follow 
the  example  of  Russell  and  return  home,  but  set  out 
for  the  South  and  reached  the  Confederate  capital 
by  the  "underground  route." 

That  trip  across  the  lines  was  extremely  perilous. 
The  Englishman  shrewdly  suspected  that  one  or  two 
of  his  acquaintances  in  the  capital  were  in  sympathy 
with  the  South.  To  one  man  he  mentioned  his  desire 
to  join  the  Confederates,  and  following  the  instructions 
then  given  him,  he  furnished  a  photograph  of  himself 
and  received  in  return  a  minute  description  of  the 
man  he  would  find  on  a  certain  day  on  a  West  River 
steamboat  bound  for  Baltimore.  This  man  he  must 
not  particularly  notice  nor  address,  but  when  the  man 
landed  the  artist  must  land  and  without  asking  any 
questions  whatever  he  must  follow  whithersoever  the 
stranger  might  lead.  Thus  he  was  guided  to  a  lonely 
place  where  he  found  a  carriage  and  a  fine  pair  of 
horses,  and  was  conveyed  to  a  beautiful  home  twelve 
miles  away,  there  to  be  entertained  in  elaborate 
fashion.  Every  member  of  the  household  listened 
with  the  greatest  deference  to  Vizetelly,  a  circumstance 
which  he  did  not  fully  understand  until  he  learned 
by  accident  that  he  was  supposed  to  be  an  emissary 
of  the  government  of  England.  So  day  after  day  he 
was  entertained  in  the  mansions  at  which  his  drivers 
stopped,  until  the  fourth  day,  when  he  reached  the 
Patuxent  River  and  was  rowed  across  by  negroes  in 
a  flat-bottomed  boat,  the  only  craft  on  the  stream 
which  had  not  been  destroyed  by  the  Federals. 


262      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

One  day  more  brought  him  to  Leonard's  Town 
on  the  Potomac,  where  he  was  welcomed  by  a  secret 
committee  of  Southern  sympathizers,  and  entrusted 
by  mothers,  sisters,  wives  and  sweethearts  with  scores 
of  letters  for  their  male  friends  who  had  fled  from 
Maryland  to  join  Lee  and  Jackson.  There  was  not 
a  boat  to  be  found  on  the  river.  In  a  hollowed-out 
tree-trunk  he  was  paddled  out  upon  the  stream  by 
a  negro  called  Job,  under  cover  of  darkness.  The 
plashing  of  the  paddle  was  heard  by  a  watchful  patrol 
aboard  a  Federal  scout  steamer  and  a  solid  shot  was 
fired  in  their  direction.  Job  was  stiff  with  fear. 
Vizetelly  held  a  revolver  to  his  head  and  compelled 
him  to  paddle  like  mad  for  the  Maryland  shore.  The 
dug-out  was  secreted  amid  the  tall  rushes  along  the 
bank.  For  hours  the  Federal  searchlights  were  flashed 
up  and  down  the  river  and  the  shore  and  then  an  anchor 
was  let  go,  and  for  two  days  the  negro  and  the  artist 
were  compelled  to  crouch  in  their  hollow  log  amid 
the  reeds  without  food,  scorched  by  the  sun  by  day 
and  tortured  by  mosquitoes  at  night.  On  the  second 
day  Vizetelly  managed  to  let  the  dug-out  drift  down 
stream  a  little,  still  covered  by  the  reeds,  to  a  spot 
where  he  found  some  fine  oysters  embedded  on  the 
banks.  The  artist  climbed  out  and  obtained  a  meal, 
but,  he  used  afterward  to  declare,  "he  could  not  fill 
up  Job,  who  had  a  mouth  that  yawned  like  a  grave- 
yard full  of  tombstones,  but  still  with  an  unhmited 
capacity  to  bury." 

The  following  night  they  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  the  Federal  patrol  steam  full  speed  down  river 
and  two  hours  of  hard  paddling  brought  them  to  the 
Virginia  shore.  Two  young  Marylanders  guided  him 
to  the  Rappahannock,  eluding  the  scouting  parties 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  263 

of  the  Union  armies.  Richmond  was  reached  just 
as  the  advance  of  the  Federals  was  repulsed,  in  the 
fall  of  1862. 

Now  for  nearly  three  years  Vizetelly  was  in  the 
South,  and  very  popular  he  became  with  many  of 
the  leaders  of  the  "cause."  Of  him  Mrs.  Burton 
Harrison  speaks  in  her  "Recollections,"  recalling  how 
he  sang  and  told  stories  and  danced  j>as  seuls,  "and 
was  as  plucky  in  the  saddle  as  on  the  battlefield." 
With  General  "Jeb"  Stuart  he  went  on  several  daring 
cavalry  raids.  He  was  with  Longstreet  at  Fredericks- 
burg, and  upon  one  occasion  at  Chickamauga  served 
as  his  aide,  riding  successfully  with  an  important 
message  from  the  general  to  the  commander  of  a 
distant  post  after  two  preceding  messengers  had  been 
picked  off  by  the  Federal  sharpshooters.  For  this 
exploit  he  was  made  an  honorary  captain  on  the  field 
of  battle.  In  February,  1863,  he  went  to  Charleston, 
and  wrote  what  is  said  to  be  the  only  account  of  the 
bombardment  which  was  ever  written  from  the  inside. 

During  all  this  time  he  was  sending  sketches  and 
portraits  to  his  journal,  but  numbers  of  these  drawings 
and  letters  failed  to  reach  London.  They  had  to 
be  sent  out  of  the  country  aboard  blockade  runners 
and  the  Federal  scouts  captured  a  good  many  of 
these  vessels.  Thus  the  Englishman's  drawings  fell 
into  Northern  hands  and  it  became  a  rather  common 
thing  for  Vizetelly  pictures  to  appear  in  Harper's 
Weekly,  much  to  the  disgust  of  the  editors  in  London. 
However,  the  artist's  work  was  regarded  as  contra- 
band of  war. 

The  account  of  the  bombardment  of  Charleston 
is  of  remarkable  interest.  The  correspondent  tells 
how  be  looked  out  upon  "the  magnificent  view  of  the 


264     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

broad  bay  and  islands  of  the  harbor  of  Charleston" 
with  the  general  in  command  of  the  district;  how  a 
good  glass  revealed  the  "iron-turreted  ships  of  the 
enemy  swaying  lazily  to  and  fro  with  the  ground 
swell;"  and  how  the  people  of  the  city  had  been 
anxiously  awaiting  the  Federal  assault  which  they 
knew  to  be  imminent.  Under  the  windows  negroes 
were  loading  shot  and  shell  for  Fort  Sumter.  The 
citizen  reserves,  made  up  of  gray-haired  planters, 
clergymen,  artisans  and  others,  were  ready  for  service. 
A  long  line  of  ambulances  were  waiting  to  receive  the 
wounded.  In  several  homes  in  which  he  called  the 
artist  found  all  the  ladies  assembled  in  their  drawing 
rooms,  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and  all  picking  lint. 
One  colored  "aunty"  addressed  Vizetelly  thus:  "Lor- 
a-mussy,  boss!  Is  dem  cussed  bobolitionists  gwine 
to  shoot  their  big  guns  'mongst  us  women  folks .'^ 
They's  better  go  right  clean  away." 

The  correspondent  watched  the  approach  of  the 
Northern  ships  through  his  glass  while  he  could  "almost 
hear  the  thumping  of  his  heart  against  his  ribs." 
Everybody  in  the  city,  ladies  not  excepted,  hurried 
to  the  Battery  whence  there  might  be  had  a  clear  view 
of  the  fleet  and  of  the  forts.  Soon  more  than  a  hundred 
eight-inch  and  ten-inch  guns  "were  joined  in  a  terrible 
chorus."  With  General  Ripley,  Vizetelly  was  rowed 
toward  the  scene  of  action.  Their  way  lay  right  in 
the  path  of  particles  of  shell  and  of  solid  shot  that 
ricochetted  over  the  waters,  but  before  the  fleet  blocked 
the  channel  they  were  safe  under  the  parapet  of  one 
of  the  batteries.  Vizetelly  saw  the  Ironsides  and 
the  Keokuk  and  other  monitors  driven  back,  and 
passed  the  night  in  Fort  Sumter.  Next  morning  the 
attack  was  not  renewed.     Five  days  after  the  armada 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  265 

departed  and  the  first  chapter  of  the  siege  was  over. 

To  Mississippi,  where  he  was  with  General  Johnston, 
came  the  news  of  the  renewal  of  the  assault,  and  five 
days  of  incessant  travel  brought  Vizetelly  to  the 
city  in  time  to  see  the  attack  by  land  and  sea  on  Fort 
Wagner.  For  fifteen  hours  he  watched  that  formidable 
bombardment.  He  rowed  down  the  harbor  when 
the  night  assault  was  made.  When  the  flat-bottomed 
transport  reached  Morris  Island  and  the  men  waded 
ashore  they  could  hear  the  Southern  yell  and  the 
Northern  hurrah.  Reaching  the  Battery  just  after 
the  repulse  of  the  assailants,  Vizetelly  found  "the 
worn-out  garrison  lying  panting  under  the  parapet, 
while  on  that  parapet  lay  the  dead  and  dying  of  the 
enemy  who  had  reached  thus  far.  From  a  low  bomb- 
proof chamber,  feebly  lit  by  a  battle  lantern,  came 
the  groans  of  the  Confederate  wounded,  broken  here 
and  there  by  the  sharp  cry  of  some  poor  fellow  who 
was  writhing  under  the  surgeon's  knife." 

The  bombardment  was  renewed  day  after  day. 
At  a  distance  6f  nearly  three  miles  three  hundred-pound 
bolts  were  sent  "crashing  through  the  brickwork  of 
the  gray  old  sentinel  that  had  so  long  kept  watch 
and  ward  over  Charleston."  Day  after  day  the  flag 
would  be  shot  away  and  always  some  brave  fellow 
would  replace  it.  Twice  the  Federals  were  fought 
back  when  they  tried  to  gain  an  entrance  to  the  harbor. 
"  Now,"  says  Vizetelly,  "  the  Federal  General  was  guilty 
of  the  barbarity  which  disgraced  him  as  a  soldier. 
Unable  to  capture  the  forts  in  his  immediate  front, 
he  intimated  that  unless  they  were  surrendered,  he 
would  turn  the  most  powerful  of  his  guns  upon  the 
city." 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  of  August  21,  Vizetelly 


266     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

was  listening  to  the  cannonade,  unable  to  sleep  because 
of  the  heat,  and  reading  Hugo's  Waterloo  chapters 
in  "Les  Miserables.'*  There  came  a  crash  and  a 
deafening  explosion  in  the  very  street  in  which  he  was 
living  and  he  bounded  into  the  centre  of  the  room 
in  astonishment.  The  shelling  had  begun.  There  were 
both  tragedy  and  comedy  in  the  city  that  night. 
The  hotel  was  full  of  speculators  brought  to  Charleston 
by  the  sale  of  some  blockade  negroes,  and  these  men 
were  rushing  about  the  corridors  in  frenzy.  One 
portly  individual  was  trotting  about  in  a  costume 
which  consisted  of  the  boot  he  wore  and  the  other 
which  he  carried  in  his  hand.  He  had  rushed  from  his 
room,  forgotten  the  number,  and  in  distress  was  search- 
ing every  corridor.  The  streets  filled  with  men  and 
women  making  their  way  to  the  upper  parts  of  the 
city  and  safety.  The  volunteer  fire  brigades  were 
busy,  and  the  members  of  a  negro  company  fought 
a  fire  with  courage  and  copiously  cursed  the  "boboli- 
tionists."  Vizetelly  watched  the  bombardment  for 
several  hours  from  the  Battery  promenade.  And 
here  his  account  abruptly  breaks  off. 

On  several  occasions  the  artist  himself  ran  the 
blockade.  Soon  after  the  bombardment  he  was  in 
England  for  a  brief  season.  At  the  supper  given  in 
London  for  Manager  Bateman  of  the  Lyceum  and 
his  daughter,  Kate,  who  already  had  achieved  success 
in  her  famous  character  of  Leah,  Frank  Vizetelly, 
who  was  an  excellent  raconteur  and  a  good  mimic  of 
both  voice  and  action,  almost  **made"  the  evening, 
with  his  fund  of  anecdotes  of  the  American  battle- 
fields and  of  life  in  the  Southern  States.  Vizetelly 
had  slipped  away  to  London  also  when  Garibaldi 
made  his  famous  visit  there  in  1864,  and  he  was  the 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  267 

constant  companion  of  the  Italian  hero  while  the 
English  populace  was  going  mad  over  him.  Vizetelly 
would  foregather  with  his  friends  at  the  Cheshire 
Cheese  and  suddenly  be  off  again  without  a  good-bye 
for  any  one.  He  saw  many  of  the  important  engage- 
ments of  the  closing  years  of  the  American  Civil  War 
and  left  the  States  for  good  early  in  1865. 

Now  there  was  a  period  of  comparative  ease  until 
the  outbreak  of  hostilities  between  Austria  and  Prussia 
in  1866,  when  the  News  at  once  sent  the  special  to 
Vienna.  Another  interval  of  quiet  followed  the  Seven 
Weeks  War.  Vizetelly  dabbled  in  dramatic  and 
newspaper  ventures  and  was  popular  as  a  cartoonist. 
When  news  came  that  Don  Carlos  had  raised  his 
standard  in  the  Basque  Provinces,  the  artist,  surely 
now  to  be  rated  a  veteran,  was  off  to  Spain  for  the  The 
Times.  It  was  here  that  he  became  a  close  associate 
of  O'Shea  of  the  Standard^  the  writer  of  the  "Round- 
about Recollections, "  in  which  there  are  many  affection- 
ate allusions  to  Vizetelly. 

O'Shea  describes  how  the  artist  "ruffled  it  among 
the  followers  of  Don  Carlos,"  as  El  Conde  de  Vizetelly, 
serenely  wearing  his  romantic  and  sonorous  title. 
The  bodyguard  of  his  Catholic  Majesty  was  composed 
of  French,  Austrians,  Italians,  Germans,  grandees 
of  Spain,  soldiers  of  fortune  of  every  sort,  and  behind 
every  second  man  there  was  a  story.  Vizetelly  was 
at  home  among  these  men;  they  liked  him  and  he 
liked  the  guerilla  warfare. 

The  insurrection  over,  the  restless  artist  crossed 
the  Pyrenees  into  France  and  lived  for  a  year  or  two 
at  Hendaye.  With  careless  audacity,  he  organized 
a  band  of  former  followers  of  Don  Carlos  into  a  com- 
pany  of   smugglers.     They   were  experienced   moun- 


268     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

taineers,  reckless  of  consequences  and  very  willing  to 
embarrass  the  customs  authorities  of  one  country  or 
both.  It  was  dangerous  business,  however,  for  in 
the  dead  of  night  their  contraband  goods  were  brought 
across  the  frontier  on  their  backs.  With  minute 
precautions  they  tramped  the  mountain  trails;  a 
single  stone  loosened  from  the  track  and  dropping 
into  the  valley  below  would  disclose  their  situation 
to  the  guards  and  the  carbineros  would  be  shooting 
at  them. 

Quitting  Hendaye,  he  made  drawings  of  chateaux 
and  vineyards  in  the  wine  districts  of  France.  Next 
he  visited  Paris.  After  Paris  came  Tunis,  and  after 
Tunis,  Egypt,  where  his  nephew,  Edward  Henry 
Vizetelly,  was  amazed  by  '  his  appearance  in  Alex- 
andria just  in  time  for  the  bombardment.  Frank 
made  the  twenty-ninth  in  the  little  company  who 
endured  the  perils  of  the  time  in  the  fortified  building 
of  the  Anglo-Egyptian  bank.  Says  the  younger  corre- 
spondent: "Whom  should  I  behold  but  my  old  uncle, 
the  veteran  of  two  hemispheres?  Although  somewhat 
battered  by  years  of  travel  and  adventure,  he  still 
stood  erect,  but  looked  stout  and  rubicund,  the  florid 
tone  of  his  countenance  standing  out  in  lively  contrast 
to  the  whiteness  of  his  hair  clipped  close  to  his  skull, 
and  his   thick,   snow-like  mustache." 

The  night  following  the  shelling  of  the  city,  when 
the  fires  were  roaring  all  around  them  and  the  shouts 
of  the  looters  and  frequent  fusillades  of  the  street 
fighters  were  borne  to  their  ears,  where  they  kept 
guard  in  the  bank  building,  the  nephew  caught  sight 
of  the  figure  of  his  uncle  from  time  to  time  in  sudden 
bursts  of  glare.  He  had  "discarded  his  coat  and 
in   shirt   and  trousers   with   a  handkerchief  knotted 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  269 

about  his  brow  was  stalking  round  with  his  gun  at 
his  hip." 

The  final  scene  was  just  at  hand.  Vizetelly  ar- 
ranged with  the  Graphic  to  go  to  the  Soudan  with 
Hicks  Pasha.  The  expedition  was  badly  planned, 
badly  ofl&cered,  badly  manned  and  badly  guided. 
Slatin  Pacha  in  his  "Fire  and  Sword  in  the  Soudan," 
writing  from  his  position  with  the  Mahdi,  says:  "Ten 
thousand  men  in  square  formation,  with  six  thousand 
camels  in  their  midst,  were  to  march  through  districts 
overgrown  with  vegetation  and  grass  taller  than  a 
man's  height.  .  .  .  They  must  be  ready  at  any  moment 
for  the  attack  of  an  enemy  far  more  numerous  and 
as  well  armed  as  themselves,  besides  being  infinitely 
better  fighters.  .  .  .  Six  thousand  camels  huddled 
together  in  the  centre  of  the  square  presented  a  perfect 
forest  of  heads  and  necks;  it  was  impossible  for  a 
bullet  fired  by  one  of  the  enemy  from  behind  a  tree 
to  miss  altogether  this  gigantic  target." 

On  November  3,  1883,  they  were  attacked.  The 
next  day  they  continued  the  march,  leaving  a  heap 
of  dead  behind  them,  but  before  they  had  advanced 
a  mile  they  were  assailed  by  a  round  hundred  thou- 
sand wild  fanatics  concealed  among  the  trees.  The 
square  was  broken  in  a  twinkling  and  the  massacre 
began.  Under  a  large  tree  the  European  oflScers 
and  a  few  of  the  Turkish  officers  made  a  stand,  but 
almost  to  a  man  they  were  cut  down.  Thousands 
of  dead  bodies  were  left  piled  in  heaps  upon  the  field 
of  the  slaughter,  every  body  divested  of  every  scrap 
of  clothing. 

The  body  of  Frank  Vizetelly  was  never  found. 
For  a  long  time  there  was  a  persistent  rumor  that 
he  alone  escaped,  as  news  came  from  Dongola  that 


«70     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

there  was  an  artist  in  the  camp  of  the  Mahdi.  When 
the  Gordon  Relief  Expedition  was  organized  Lord 
Wolseley  promised  to  try  to  rescue  Vizetelly,  but  not 
a  shred  of  authentic  information  has  ever  come  out 
of  the  Soudan  about  the  brave  artist.  To  Slatin 
Pacha  fell  the  melancholy  duty  of  looking  over  the 
documents  which  came  into  the  hands  of  the  Mahdi. 
"Poor  Vizetelly  made  his  sketches,"  he  writes. 
"O'Donovan  wrote  his  diary,  but  who  was  to  send 
them  home  to  those  who  were  so  anxiously  awaiting 
them?" 

The  diary  and  that  of  Colonel  Farquhar  were  read 
by  Slatin  Pacha,  who  is  still  living  and  is  now  the 
resident  oflficer  at  Khartoum,  and  "terribly  sad" 
they  were.  Both  men  had  foreseen  precisely  what 
occurred,  as  no  doubt  had  Vizetelly.  In  one  place 
the  officer  had  recorded:  "I  spoke  to  Mr.  O'Donovan 
today,  and  asked  him  where  we  should  be  eight  days 
hence.  'In  Kingdom  Come!'  was  his  reply."  Upon 
the  memorial  tablet  in  the  crypt  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral 
in  London,  the  name  of  O'Donovan  comes  first,  with 
Frank  Vizetelly's  next,  thus: 

FRANK  VIZETELLY 
ARTIST,  CASHGILL,  NOVEMBER,  1883. 

Edward  Henry  Vizetelly,  born  in  1847,  and  known 
to  numbers  of  newspaper  readers  as  "Bertie  Clere," 
was  educated  in  France,  and,  true  to  the  traditions 
of  the  family,  promptly  availed  himself  of  the  op- 
portunity for  adventure  when  the  war  of  1870  began. 
As  the  special  for  the  Daily  News  and  the  New  York 
Times,  he  became  the  orderly  officer  on  the  staff  of 
Garibaldi,  who  performed  excellent  service  with  his 
irregular  forces  in  the  Vosges.    Jaunty  enough,  and 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  271 

resolute,  too,  did  the  young  Englishman  in  the  uni- 
form of  the  Garibaldian  Brigade  appear,  as  his  portrait 
indicates.  Later  it  fell  to  him  to  record  some  of 
the  events  of  the  Commune  in  Marseilles.  The  with- 
drawal of  French  troops  from  Algiers  provided  the 
opening  for  a  formidable  insurrection  and  the  young 
special  next  reported  the  severe  fighting  which 
ensued  in  northern  Africa  in  1871. 

Several  years  in  London  were  enough  to  weary 
him  of  Fleet  Street  and  the  Strand.  The  war  cloud 
was  hovering  over  the  Danubian  region  in  1876,  and 
Edward  Vizetelly  journeyed  east  to  enlist  in  the 
service  of  the  Sultan.  He  became  a  Bashi-Bazouk, 
saw  a  good  deal  of  adventure  in  Asia  Minor,  and  through 
the  campaign  sent  letters  to  the  Standard,  He  landed 
at  Constantinople  at  a  critical  time.  There  were 
Hungarians,  Poles,  Frenchmen,  Swiss,  Germans, 
Italians,  Carlists,  Communists,  and  other  Revolu- 
tionists of  various  denominations,  all  like  himself 
seeking  occupation  and  excitement  at  Pera  and  all 
trying  to  enter  the  Ottoman  army,  but  questions  of 
religion  and  language  seemed  to  be  fatal  obstacles. 
The  best  chance  offered  in  Asia,  where  European  com- 
petitors were  fewer.  A  Circassian  regiment  was 
forming  at  Trebizond,  and  the  young '  Englishman 
shaved  his  head  and  arrayed  himself  in  a  Circassian 
costume  and  joined  it.  Turk  and  Circassian  alike 
seemed  to  regard  the  infidel  highly,  and,  for  that 
matter,  so  he  bore  himself  well  in  arms,  no  questions 
were  raised  as  to  the  race  and  little  attention  was 
given  to  the  religion  of  a  Bashi-Bazouk.  These 
Turkish  irregulars  were  recruited  somewhat  as  the 
famous  Foreign  Legion  is  formed.  Doubtless  the 
recollection  of  General  Sir  Fenwick  Williams's  brilliant 


272      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

defence  of  Kars  more  than  twenty  years  before  had 
something  to  do  with  the  favor  shown  the  English 
soldier  of  fortune. 

After  some  time  among  the  mountains  of  Asia 
Minor,  the  whole  of  the  Circassian  force,  more  than 
eleven  hundred  men,  dissatisfied  with  the  treatment 
of  some  of  their  comrades,  deserted.  The  English- 
man was  a  waif  in  the  camp  and  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  intimated  that  he  might  stay  with  his  orderly 
officers.  Months  of  inactivity  followed,  during  which 
he  was  intimate  with  Edmond  O'Donovan,  who, 
with  several  other  specials,  had  joined  the  force.  It 
became  certain  that  Kars  again  was  to  be  subjected 
to  a  Russian  siege,  and  that  those  who  would  not 
be  cooped  up  in  the  fortress  must  leave  at  once.  With 
O'Donovan  and  Gaston  Lemay,  a  French  correspond- 
ent, Vizetelly  rode  for  Erzeroum.  He  had  his  troubles 
and  faced  some  dangers  on  that  retreat.  Storms 
so  furious  that  his  horse  flatly  refused  to  advance 
stopped  him.  Rains  made  the  road  a  morass;  the 
soles  dropped  off  his  boots  and  for  miles  he  struggled 
forward  barefooted.  Befriended  by  Kurds,  he  at  last 
reached  his  destination,  where  he  instantly  wrote 
and  sent  off  a  long  letter  to  the  Standard.  After  some 
days  a  telegram  was  put  into  his  hand  which  read: 
"  All  your  letters  published.  Draw  on  me  for  a  hundred 
pounds.  Mudford."  The  money  was  of  immediate 
use,  and  the  English  Bashi-Bazouk  rejoiced  exceedingly 
at  the  prospect  before  him. 

Winter  found  him  still  at  Erzeroum,  with  the  wire 
embargoed  by  the  Turks  and  the  Standard  telegraphing 
almost  frantically  for  news.  Occasional  messengers 
eluded  the  vigilance  of  the  Turks  and  got  to  the  coast 
bearing  letters  which  once  a  week  might  be  shipped 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  273 

out  of  Trebizond.  On  the  night  preceding  the  depar- 
ture of  a  messenger,  Vizetelly  and  O'Donovan  would 
take  their  places  opposite  each  other  at  a  large  table, 
with  a  supply  of  tobacco,  paper  and  pens,  and  write 
steadily  through  the  hours  until  sunrise. 

After  Christmas  it  was  necessary  to  be  off  again 
to  escape  being  shut  up  in  the  town.  A  few  despatches 
were  forwarded,  under  difficulty,  in  Turkish,  to  be 
sent  on  in  English  from  Constantinople  by  the  resident 
representative  of  the  paper.  After  an  absence  of 
about  nine  months  Vizetelly  once  more  landed  in  the 
Sultan's  capital.  O'Donovan  was  away  ere  long 
for  Batoum,  whence  he  set  out  on  his  famous  ride 
to  Merv.  Events  on  the  Bosphorus  were  not  now 
of  great  interest  to  the  public,  and  the  Standard  had 
little  use  for  the  six  or  seven  specials  who  were  lounging 
at  Pera.  Opportunely  enough,  an  insurrection  broke 
out  in  Thessaly  and  Epirus,  and  Vizetelly  promptly 
took  passage  for  Athens. 

With  the  English  occupation  of  Cyprus,  Vizetelly 
left  for  that  island  as  correspondent  for  the  Glasgow 
Herald.  Partly  as  a  prank,  and  in  part  as  a  speculation, 
he  founded  the  Cyprus  Times,  a  weekly  paper  in  English, 
whose  pages  were  kept  sprightly  enough  by  his  own 
facile  pen  and  by  a  corps  of  gay  contributors.  But 
events  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  where  the  Arabist 
movement  was  progressing,  began  to  interest  him, 
and  in  February,  1882,  the  Cyprus  Times  ceased  to 
appear,  and  a  steamship  bore  the  editor  to  Egypt. 
The  Alexandria  representative  of  the  Daily  News,  Mr. 
J.  C.  Chapman,  saw  the  advantage  of  having  a  reliable 
man  at  Cairo  and  enlisted  his  services.  He  was 
also  employed  upon  the  Bombay  Gazette  and  the 
Egyptian  Gazette, 


274     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

On  June  11,  1882,  a  boy  brought  him  a  telegram 
from  Chapman  which  read  thus: 

"  Crowds  of  Arabs  armed  with  nabouts  are  parading 
the  streets,  massacring  all  the  Europeans  they  come 
across." 

The  next  day  there  was  panic  all  over  Egypt. 
Europeans  and  other  foreigners  at  once  fled  from 
Cairo.  On  the  fifteenth,  Vizetelly  went  to  Alexandria, 
which  he  found  a  deserted  city,  save  for  the  soldiers 
who  had  been  crammed  into  it,  with  business  at  a 
standstill  and  the  streets  destitute  of  vehicles  except 
the  baggage  drays  clattering  to  the  Port  with  their 
loads  of  luggage.  Steamships  and  chartered  sailing 
vessels  carried  thousands  of  fugitives  to  Malta,  Mar- 
seilles, Naples,  the  Piraeus,  and  Cyprus.  Ordered  by 
the  Khedive  and  even  by  the  Sultan  to  cease  all 
armaments,  Arabi  continued  preparing  in  every  way 
for  hostilities,  setting  Europe  and  the  Sultan  at 
defiance.  He  was  intoxicated  with  his  own  rapid  rise 
to  power.  But  it  was  evident  that  England  intended 
to  take  vengeance  for  the  murder  of  her  six  or  more 
British-born  subjects  and  for  the  brutalities  inflicted 
upon  her  Consul  and  Judge.  Warnings  were  sent  to 
the  commandant  of  Arabi's  forts  that  no  more  guns 
must  be  mounted  on  the  sea  defences.  The  Arabists 
paid  no  heed.  At  dawn  on  July  10,  the  British  Admiral 
forwarded  an  ultimatum  to  the  commandant. 

The  instant  the  word  "bombardment"  was  passed 
about,  the  Europeans,  who  had  refused  to  recognize 
the  danger  of  their  position,  stampeded  from  the  city. 
Of  these  loiterers  the  last  did  not  get  away  until  the 
afternoon  before  the  shelling  of  the  city  began.  Some 
had  remained  out  of  necessity  to  care  for  their  duties. 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  275 

Chapman  departed  on  the  morning  of  the  10th  in  a 
steani  launch  for  one  of  the  EngHsh  ships. 

Vizetelly  now  put  to  his  credit  one  of  his  two  unique 
achievements;  he  decided  to  stay  in  the  city  through 
the  bombardment.  Of  the  events  of  those  momentous 
days  and  nights  he  kept  a  half-hourly  diary,  which 
appeared  in  full  in  the  Bombay  Gazette  of  August  3, 
and,  somewhat  abridged,  in  the  Daily  News  of  July  18. 
George  Goussio,  the  manager  of  the  Anglo-Egyptian 
bank,  had  enlisted  followers  and  stocked  the  strong 
bank  building  with  provisions,  intending  "to  see  the 
thing  through  on  land."  With  Goussio  were  eight 
stalwart  men,  armed  to  the  teeth  and  picturesquely 
clad  in  their  native  Montenegrin  dress,  who  had  served 
as  messengers  for  banks  and  commercial  houses;  five 
more  of  the  "garrison"  were  Greeks  of  the  desperado 
type.  These  thirteen  men  were  quartered  downstairs 
with  the  big  safes  for  battlements.  Upstairs  were 
Goussio  and  his  wife,  two  English  business  men,  a 
French  railway  man,  two  Greek  friends  of  Goussio's, 
an  Italian  cook,  a  Berberin  servant,  three  European 
handmaidens,  and  Vizetelly,  who  was  astonished  by 
the  arrival  of  his  uncle,  Frank,  just  in  time  for  the 
excitement  of  the  bombardment.  Across  the  street 
in  the  house  of  an  Italian  banker  four  armed  Greeks 
were  stationed  to  defend  their  door  in  case  of  assault. 
The  water  supply  was  stored  in  several  large  baths. 
The  upper  part  of  the  house  could  be  isolated  by  the 
blowing  up  of  the  staircase.  And  upon  the  desks 
where  the  ledgers  reposed  in  times  of  peace  there  now 
were  deposited  boxes  and  ordinary  soda  water  bottles 
charged  with  dynamite  to  be  flung  out  of  the  windows 
if  a  mob  charged  the  premises. 

On  July  11,  at  7.15  in  the  morning,  Goussio  shook 


276     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

his  friend  awake  and  Vizetelly  hurriedly  put  on  his 
clothes  amidst  the  booming  of  big  guns.  Within  an 
hour  shells  were  passing  over  the  bank.  In  the  diary 
which  Vizetelly  kept  of  the  bombardment,  and  which 
is  an  historical  document  of  value,  one  may  read: 
"8.50  A.M.,  Shells  bursting  near  us;  Arabs  fleeing  in 
cabs  and  on  foot,  the  latter  howling  in  terror. 
8.55  A.M.,  Just  been  up  on  terrace,  i.e.,  the  flat  roof 
of  the  house.  Can  see  nothing,  but  can  hear  large 
projectiles  rushing  through  the  air.  9.50  a.m..  Boys 
in  the  street  tearing  the  telephone  wires  down  from 
the  Italian  banker's  opposite,  amidst  shouts  and  yells. 
10.7  A.M.,  Two  cabs  full  of  dead  artillerymen  just  gone 
by,  the  bodies  fastened  in  by  cords.  1  p.m..  Crowd  of 
children  with  green  flag  passed  down  the  street  towards 
the  Port  calling  upon  Allah  and  beating  empty  petro- 
leum tins.  6.10  P.M.,  Continued  and  ever-increasing 
demonstrations  of  joy,  clapping  of  hands  and  so  forth. 
First  report:  Two  English  ships  sunk.  Second  report: 
Turkish  troops  arrived.  7.30  p.m..  Several  of  us  went 
out  on  the  balcony.  Noticed  that  most  of  the  people 
passing  scowled  very  savagely  at  us.  Came  in  and 
shut  shutters." 

At  nine  the  city  was  quiet  and  all  hands  turned  in 
to  get  some  rest.  The  night  passed  without  incident, 
but  the  position  of  the  little  company  was  critical; 
they  were  in  fear  of  an  incursion  of  Bedouin  and  the 
sacking  of  the  town.  The  next  morning  the  exodus 
of  the  natives  continued  with  feverish  haste.  At 
12.40  that  day  Vizetelly  made  this  entry  in  his  diary: 
"We  are  keeping  up  courage  splendidly  but  the  moment 
is  an  anxious  one  and  everyone  is  dreading  that  ominous 
knock  on  the  door  which  is  sure  to  be  followed  by  a 
demand    for    admission.     We    cannot    disguise    from 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  277 

ourselves  the  fact  that  a  great  many,  a  very  great 
many,  soldiers  and  civilians  have  met  their  death  in 
the  bombardment,  and  that  the  people  remaining 
here  are  naturally  very  incensed  against  Europeans." 
A  little  after  one  there  was  a  knock  on  the  door.  A 
letter  had  come  from  the  hospital,  and  amid  almost  a 
riot  between  the  soldiers  and  the  populace  it  was  drawn 
up  to  the  upper  windows  by  a  string.  The  looting 
of  the  city  had  already  begun. 

Among  the  records  of  the  day  are  these:  "2.45 
P.M.,  Arabs  and  soldiers  going  by  laden  with  loot. 
Can  hear  the  mob  breaking  into  the  houses  hard  by. 
3.08  P.M.,  The  soldiers  have  just  smashed  in  the  shutters 
of  a  large  provision  warehouse  opposite.  3.30  p.m., 
Someone  has  been  trying  to  introduce  a  crowbar 
between  the  two  flaps  of  our  door.  5.'25  p.m.,  Goussio's 
house,  higher  up  the  street,  is  ablaze.  6.15  p.m..  Our 
street  above  the  bank  is  alight  on  both  sides  now,  and 
the  flames  are  descending  this  way.  10  p.m..  We 
are  now  in  the  midst  of  burning  houses." 

Through  the  night  they  continued  to  open  their 
doors  to  refugees  who  sought  safety,  among  them 
Ranson,  correspondent  of  the  Paris  Clarion,  and 
Landry,  the  representative  of  the  Havas  Agency. 
By  10.20,  there  were  sixty-seven  persons  in  the  bank. 
To  save  themselves  it  was  obviously  necessary  to  keep 
a  large  circle  round  their  premises  free  from  the  flames. 
To  do  this,  all  through  the  night  they  made  sallies 
from  the  bank  to  drive  off  the  bands  of  incendiaries, 
who  were  provided  with  bundles  of  cotton  steeped 
in  petroleum  with  which  they  fired  the  shops  they 
sacked. 

Once  that  awful  night  Vizetelly  was  in  serious 
peril.     He  was  out  with  some  of  the  Montenegrins. 


278     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

The  enemy  proved  formidable  and  the  Montenegrins 
ran  for  the  bank,  and  got  wedged  in  the  one  flap 
of  the  double  door  which  was  open,  leaving  the  English- 
man on  the  outside  with  the  looters  near,  expecting 
any  instant  that  his  "loins  would  be  riddled  with 
lead."  The  Montenegrins  did  not  squeeze  through  in 
time,  and  Vizetelly  thus  describes  his  escape: 

"  I  remembered  there  was  a  blind  alley  on  the  right-hand 
side  of  our  premises.  I  slipped  away  into  it.  It  was  pitch 
dark.  A  mansion  on  the  right  next  to  ours  had  been  broken 
into  and  wrecked.  The  aperture  of  a  ground-floor  window 
stripped  of  its  Venetian  shutters  and  framework  was  gaping 
before  me.  With  infinite  precaution  I  slipped  over  the 
sill,  but  was  no  sooner  inside  the  room  than  it  seemed  to 
me  I  heard  some  heavy  breathing,  as  if  another  human 
being  were  there  in  sound  slumber.  I  could  see  nothing. 
Just  at  that  moment  there  came  a  vivid  flash,  promptly 
followed  by  a  murderous  explosion  of  firearms.  Then  all 
was  still  again,  save  for  the  roar  of  the  flames  in  the  distance 
and  the  heavy  respiration  close  at  hand.  Without  troubling 
to  penetrate  that  mystery  I  cautiously  got  out  of  the  window 
again  into  the  blind  alley.  A  double  iron  gate  stood  before 
me,  spiked  at  the  top,  and  some  fifteen  feet  high.  It  led 
to  a  small  yard  at  the  back  of  the  bank  premises.  I  had 
never  done  much  climbing,  but  the  agility  with  which  I 
scaled  that  iron  gate  would  have  excited  the  admiration 
of  a  steeple- jack.  Once  in  the  yard  I  soon  was  able  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  inmates  of  the  bank,  and  by  the  aid  of 
a  ladder  first  placed  against  an  outhouse,  then  hauled  up 
and  extended  bridge- way  to  a  window,  I  reached  home  again. 
Inquiry  elicited  that  the  volley  I  had  heard  had  come  from 
the  first  floor  of  our  premises.  The  miscreants,  debouching 
from  the  court  whilst  the  Montenegrins  were  still  blocked 
in  the  doorway,  had  been  received  by  a  discharge  from  the 
upper  windows  which  had  scattered  them." 

A  cab  crammed  with  loot  was  seized  and  so  placed 
at  the  edge  of  the  pavement  as  to  make  a  barricade 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  279 

for  their  door.  At  midnight  the  danger  of  being 
hemmed  in  by  the  conflagration  was  threatening,  and 
they  blew  up  a  neighboring  mansion  with  dynamite 
to  make  a  gap  in  the  way  of  the  fires.  But  the 
Montenegrins,  who  did  not  like  flames,  were  becoming 
unmanageable;  also  they  were  infected  with  the  lust 
for  loot.  After  a  long  consultation  it  was  decided 
that  they  must  vacate  the  city  and  make  for  the  ships. 
The  Berberin  servant  sent  forth  to  reconnoitre  the  water- 
front brought  the  news  that  the  city  was  abandoned 
by  the  military  and  that  the  port  could  be  reached. 
At  a  second  council  it  was  voted  to  march  forth  at 
dawn. 

On  a  "lovely  July  morning"  the  company  of 
refugees  marched  through  pillaged  Alexandria.  Huge 
fires  raged  on  each  side  of  them  and  the  heat  was 
furnace-like.  The  leaves  of  the  trees  were  singed 
and  the  trunks  seamed.  The  only  sounds  were  the 
roar  of  flames  and  the  crackling  of  wood.  They  kept 
in  a  compact  body,  six  deep  and  rectangular.  Two 
scores  of  women  and  children,  some  of  them  babies 
in  arms,  were  placed  in  the  centre  with  well-armed 
men  about  them.  A  maid  servant  caused  a  laugh  even  in 
that  time  of  extremity  when  she  appeared  with  a 
parrot  and  a  canary  in  separate  cages.  Goussio  and  his 
wife  marched  side  by  side  in  the  van.  The  Berberin 
strolled  ahead  as  a  scout.  They  strode  as  rapidly 
as  possible  without  out-stepping  the  women,  and 
reached  the  sea  safely.  On  the  way  Vizetelly  noted 
a  Maltese  lying  stripped  and  quite  dead  with  an  Arab 
brute,  armed  with  a  nabout,  gloating  over  him.  Twice 
he  brought  his  bludgeon  down  upon  the  skull  of  the 
already  dead  man.  Unable  to  endure  the  sight,  the 
Englishman  slipped  from  the  column  and  fired  two 


280     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

bullets  into  the  Arab  as  he  was  raising  his  club  for 
another  blow.  "I  have  never  experienced  any  qualms 
of  conscience,"  wrote  the  correspondent. 

They  found  boats  with  sails  and  oars,  rowed  to  the 
outer  harbor,  and  were  taken  on  board  the  Helicon,  a 
despatch  boat  which  had  been  sent  to  look  for  refugees 
and  to  reconnoitre.     Says  Vizetelly: 

"We  must  have  had  the  cut  of  a  perfect  band  of  des- 
peradoes, as  one  by  one  we  ascended  the  companion  ladder: 
Montenegrins  in  their  strange  dress,  guns  in  their  fists  and 
a  small  armoury  of  big  silver-mounted  knives  and  pistols 
protruding  from  their  belts;  Greeks  in  shabby  European 
attire,  clutching  the  barrels  of  their  fowling-pieces,  or  dis- 
playing bulky  revolver-cases  strapped  about  their  waists. 
Even  the  well-to-do  amongst  us  presented  a  dirty,  unkempt 
appearance,  and  I  noticed  the  trim  oflBcers  of  the  navy 
scan  us  askance  as  we  passed  before  them.  No  one  had 
washed  or  been  between  the  sheets  for  three  nights." 

The  refugees  were  distributed  among  various  vessels. 
Vizetelly  was  taken  on  the  P.  and  O.  steamer  Tanjore, 
to  which  Chapman  hurried  in  a  steam  launch  from 
the  Admiral's  ship.  To  his  mute  look  of  anxious 
inquiry  the  correspondent  said,  "It's  all  right,"  and 
handed  him  his  notebook  containing  the  diary.  Next 
morning  Chapman  brought  back  the  book  with  orders 
that  Vizetelly  should  leave  that  day  for  Port  Said 
to  watch  events.  He  was  in  a  sorry  plight,  and  glad 
enough  to  accept  the  loan  of  a  shirt  from  the  younger 
Frank  Scudamore,  although  the  latter  was  much 
the  smaller  man. 

The  diary  was  to  have  been  wired  to  London  in  the 
form  in  which  it  was  printed  in  the  Bombay  paper, 
but  the  pressure  on  the  cable  was  enormous  and  long 
press  messages  could  not  be  sent  promptly,  so  that 
the  Daily  News  published  only  a  portion  of  the  record. 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  281 

When  the  diarist  reached  Port  Said  he  received  a 
long  telegram  from  Sir  John  Robinson  strenuously 
urging  him  to  wire  the  most  complete  details  of  his 
Alexandrian  experiences.  But  it  was  one  of  those 
unique  opportunities  that  force  of  circumstances 
compel  the  most  able  specials  sometimes  to  miss, 
for  the  message  reached  Vizetelly  ten  days  late,  and 
then  by  post  as  the  overland  wires  were  in  the  hands 
of  the  Arabists.  The  full  story  was  not  printed  until 
Vizetelly  published  his  most  entertaining  volume, 
"From  Cyprus  to  Zanzibar." 

On  July  14,  a  British  Naval  Brigade  entered  Alex- 
andria, as  a  police  force,  to  end  the  incendiarism  and 
pillaging,  and  that  proved  to  be  the  commencement 
of  the  British  occupation  of  Egypt.  Before  long 
Vizetelly  was  in  his  old  quarters  in  Cairo.  Again  he 
joined  the  Egyptian  Gazette,  with  which  he  remained 
some  years,  going  then  to  a  small  sheet  called  the 
Times  of  Egypt.  He  mixed  freely  in  all  the  life  of 
Cairo  and  Alexandria,  and  one  afternoon  was  com- 
manded to  appear  at  the  palace,  where  the  Khedive 
decorated  him  with  the  Order  of  the  Medjidieh. 

Meeting  James  Gordon  Bennett,  he  began  another 
remarkable  chapter  in  his  eventful  career.  Bennett 
was  cruising  in  his  yacht,  the  Namouna,  and  wired 
Vizetelly  to  meet  him  at  Alexandria,  when  he  pro- 
ceeded abruptly  to  business,  as  thus  recounted  by 
the  Englishman: 

"*I  want  you  for  Zanzibar.  It's  an  awful  place, 
you  know.  You  get  the  fever  there,  and  die  in  a  week. 
So  if  you  don't  like  taking  the  job  on,  I'll  pay  your 
expenses  back  to  Paris,  and  give  you  something  for 
yourself,  and  there'll  be  an  end  to  the  matter.' 


282      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

"'I'll  go/  I  anwered;  *I'll  go  to  Timbuctoo  if 
you  like/ 

"*0h  very  well  then,  that  settles  the  matter. 
You'd  better  come  and  dine  on  board  tonight,  at  seven/ 

"And  off  he  went/' 

Vizetelly  was  on  board  for  some  time.  Bennett 
dubbed  him  "The  Pirate."  In  the  harbor  of  Beyrout 
he  made  the  famous  swim  around  the  yacht  in  waters 
infested  with  sharks,  and,  although  he  saw  none  that 
night,  the  yarn  was  told  in  Paris  for  years  after,  how 
both  Bennett  and  he  had  swam  around  the  Namouna 
amidst  a  shoal  of  man-eaters. 

While  on  board  Bennett  gave  him  minute  instruc- 
tions. He  was  to  go  to  Zanzibar  and  devote  his  time 
and  ingenuity  to  finding  the  whereabouts  of  Henry  M. 
Stanley,  who  then  had  been  away  from  touch  with 
the  world  for  eighteen  months  on  his  expedition  for 
the  relief  of  Emin  Pasha.  The  instant  he  got  news 
of  Stanley,  Vizetelly  was  to  hurry  into  the  interior 
to  meet  the  explorer,  taking  him  comforts  and  a  letter 
of  introduction  from  the  man  who  had  sent  him  to 
find  Livingstone,  and  securing  from  him  a  letter  for 
the  New  York  Herald.  And  above  all  else,  he  was  to 
beat  a  New  York  World  man  named  Thomas  Stevens, 
who  was  looking  out  for  Stanley  for  a  like  purpose. 

For  six  months  Vizetelly  was  at  Zanzibar  with 
time  hanging  heavily  on  his  hands.  There  was  but 
one  mail  a  month,  and  the  newspaper  man  found  him- 
self isolated  from  the  world.  There  were  rumors 
in  plenty  about  Stanley;  of  reliable  information  there 
was  none.  It  was  known  that  Stanley  had  met  Tippoo- 
Tib,  and  the  rest  was  conjecture. 

A  telegram  came  from  Bennett  ordering  his  rep- 
resentative to  procure  an  American  flag  for  presen- 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  283 

tation  to  Stanley  when  he  should  be  found.  But  no 
such  flag  was  to  be  had  in  Zanzibar,  and  the  English 
special  borrowed  one  from  a  United  States  warship 
which  happened  to  be  in  port,  and  had  a  Genoese 
outfitter  make  him  a  half -size  copy  of  the  huge  banner. 
The  flag  was  barely  ready  when  definite  news  of  the 
explorer  arrived  at  last.  Alas!  It  was  necessary 
to  travel  through  German  territory  to  meet  Stanley 
and  permission  was  refused.  If  granted  to  one  cor- 
respondent the  privilege  must  also  be  given  Stevens, 
and  the  Commissioner  did  not  want  two  American 
caravans  traveling  through  the  German  possessions, 
where  an  insurrection  had  been  put  down  with  difficulty, 
and  displaying  a  new  flag  which  might  disturb  the 
negro  mind.  Vizetelly  cabled  the  facts  to  Bennett 
in  Paris.  The  publisher  replied  that  the  German 
Ambassador  in  the  French  capital  was  his  friend,  and 
the  result,  arranged  by  mail  between  Paris  and  Berlin, 
was  that  the  secretary  to  the  German  Consulate  at 
Zanzibar  told  Vizetelly  privately  that  a  cable  had 
come  from  Prince  Bismarck  ordering  that  the  special 
be  allowed  to  pass  through  German  territory  to  meet 
the  explorer  if  his  presence  would  not  interfere  with 
military  operations.  And  a  few  hours  later  came  a 
cable  from  Bennett  directing  him  to  keep  his  flag  dis- 
creetly in  his  pocket  until  the  correct  moment  came 
for  its  unfurling. 

He  organized  his  caravan  and  plunged  into  the 
interior,  and  lo!  his  rival  appeared  one  day  in  his 
tent.  The  World  man  had  been  refused  permission 
to  traverse  German  territory,  but  he  watched  Vizet- 
elly's  start  and  pluckily  enough  followed  his  rival. 
He  had  no  trading  goods  and  was  lucky  to  receive 
the  hospitality  of  Vizetelly,  who  made  the  American 


284      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

a  guest  at  his  mess.  Nevertheless  Stevens  meant  to 
beat  the  man  upon  whom  he  was  dependent  for  the 
means  of  access  to  Stanley.  He  let  Vizetelly  feed 
him  and  his  men,  but  no  acknowledgment  of  the  cour- 
tesy would  he  make  in  his  paper.  The  Englishman 
felt  justified  therefore  in  arranging  with  the  German 
authorities  to  have  any  messages  Stevens  might  send 
back  stopped  at  the  coast.  Bennett  meantime  had 
telegraphed  Vizetelly  a  promise  of  £2000  for  himself 
if  he  succeeded  in  his  enterprise. 

Stanley  was  duly  met.  Vizetelly  marched  in  order 
into  the  camp  of  the  explorer.  Mounted  upon  an  ass 
from  Muscat  and  side  by  side  with  a  German  lieutenant 
riding  an  African  ox,  he  rode  forward  with  dignity 
to  the  meeting,  while  Stevens  left  the  column  of  his 
protector  and  ran  ahead  to  be  "first."  The  flag 
was  duly  presented  and  soon  was  flying  over  the 
explorer's  tent.  That  evening  the  correspondent  sent 
to  the  Herald  the  first  message  which  reached  the  out- 
side world  with  definite  tidings  of  Emin's  rescuer. 

Next  morning  the  traveler  handed  the  special  a 
long  letter  for  the  Herald,  which  Vizetelly  at  once 
sent  off  by  special  runner.  Thus  it  reached  Bagamoyo, 
thence  it  went  by  German  steam  launch  across  to 
Zanzibar,  and  from  there  it  was  cabled  textually  to 
London.  A  note  in  the  New  York  paper  of  Decem- 
ber 5,  1889,  stated  that  the  1400  words  cost  $3500 
when  they  finally  arrived  in  New  York.  Stevens 
was  beaten. 

On  returning  to  Zanzibar  Vizetelly  found  this 
telegram  awaiting  him: 

"My  congratulations.  In  accordance  with  my 
promise,  £2000  to  your  account  with  Rothschild 
today. —  Bennett." 


THE  FIVE  VIZETELLYS  285 

With  this  exploit  to  his  credit  Vizetelly  returned 
to  Europe  and  lived  several  years  in  Paris  and  in 
London.  While  engaged  upon  some  articles  for  T. 
P.'s  Weekly,  and  collecting  information  for  them 
about  London's  submerged  tenth,  he  died  in  1903. 
His  long  life  in  the  tropics  had  somewhat  enfeebled 
his  constitution. 

One  fact  may  be  added  to  this  record  of  a  most 
remarkable  family  group.  Another  son  of  Henry 
Richard  Vizetelly,  Frank  Horace  Vizetelly,  the  lexicog- 
rapher and  writer  of  New  York  City,  not  having  suc- 
ceeded in  his  effort  to  go  to  South  Africa  as  a  war 
correspondent,  did  achieve  the  distinction  of  visiting 
the  Boer  prisoners  of  war  at  the  detention  camps  in 
Bermuda.  He  was  the  only  civilian  whom  the  British 
authorities  permitted  to  inspect  the  camps  and  narrated 
his  observations  in  the  Illustrated  London  News,  the 
New  York  Independent,  and  various  dailies. 


CHAPTER  IX 
EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT 

"...  a  man  Lord  Methuen  said  he  was  proud  to  have  with  his  army." 

— Julian  Ralph. 

"  I  met  him  at  Key  West  during  the  Spanish  War,  and  found  him  to  be 
a  solid,  well-ballasted  man,  who  knew  what  he  was  about,  and  not  at  all 
one  to  have  gone  treasure-seeking  without  excellent  reasons.  And  it  was 
easy  to  perceive  that  he  must  have  been  the  right  kind  of  a  man  to  lead  a 
treasure-hunting  expedition." 

— Ralph  D.  Paine. 

In  the  midst  of  the  war  between  Russia  and  Japan, 
when  the  foreign  specials  were  writhing  under  the 
restrictions  of  the  censorship  and  were  desperately 
trying  to  beg,  or  buy,  or  even  to  fight  their  way  to 
the  front,  where  real  fighting  was  going  on  which  they 
were  not  permitted  to  see  with  their  own  eyes,  the 
authorities  from  time  to  time  prepared  entertainments 
for  their  diversion,  as  a  means  of  conciliating  these 
troublesome  visitors.  One  of  these  impromptu  en- 
tertainments took  the  form  of  a  juggling  party.  As 
it  was  about  to  end,  Edward  F.  Knight,  with  the  quiet 
and  rather  quaint  manner  which  often  distinguished 
him,  declared  that  he  also  could  juggle,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  make  his  claim  good  by  adding  a  feature  to 
the  original  programme. 

"Here  is  a  despatch  as  it  is  sent  out  by  a  corres- 
pondent," he  said,  and  for  a  moment  there  was  seen 
a  strip  of  paper  about  eighteen  inches  long. 

"Here  again  is  the  same  despatch  after  it  has  gone 
through  the  hands  of  the  censor,"  and  suddenly  the 
paper  shrank  to  a  bare  half -inch. 

"But  here  is  the  despatch  as  it  appears  in  print," 


EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT        287 

and  lo!  while  the  speaker  looked  about  triumphantly, 
there  appeared,  as  if  out  of  the  air,  three  columns  from 
a  newspaper  and  all  filled  with  special  cablegrams  from 
the  war. 

And  then  the  amateur  performer  added  the  sly 
remark: 

"Of  course,  it  was  an  American  paper!" 

Yet  this  man  had  come  to  the  war  in  the  East  with 
a  terrible  handicap.  He  had  but  one  arm,  having 
been  wounded  so  severely  at  Belmont  in  the  Boer 
war  that  the  right  arm  had  to  be  amputated. 

Few  men  are  more  adventurous  in  an  unassuming 
way  than  Edward  F.  Knight  has  been.  His  military 
experiences  began  in  1870,  when  he  went  out  with  a 
French  force  in  the  war  with  Prussia.  Years  later, 
while  as  a  special  he  was  making  the  campaign  in 
Madagascar,  he  referred  almost  tenderly  to  his  old 
comrades  of  the  Foreign  Legion,  and  to  the  "French 
Tommy  Atkins,  the  same  pleasant,  cheery,  honest 
fellow  I  had  known  of  old."  In  nearly  every  land 
over  which  flies  the  British  flag  Ejiight  upon  one  mission 
or  another  has  traveled.  In  1878  he  was  plodding  on 
foot  about  Albania  and  Montenegro  with  three  artist 
companions,  making  a  summer  tour  in  an  almost 
unknown  country.  Nearly  twenty  years  later  he  was 
back  among  the  Balkans  in  the  war  between  Turkey 
and  Greece,  and  in  1908  he  spent  several  months  in 
Salonica  and  Constantinople  studying  the  revolution 
of  the  Young  Turks.  For  the  Morning  Post  he  made 
the  Ophir  tour  of  the  world  wfth  th«e  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Cornwall  and  York.  In  the  spring  of  1891,  he  left 
for  the  desolate  mountain  region  of  Kashmir,  where 
he  took  part  in  the  expedition  against  the  Hunza- 
Nagars,    sending   to    The    Times   and   some   London 


288     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

weeklies  descriptive  letters  upon  the  campaign  of  a 
handful  of  men  against  a  foe  of  far  greater  numbers 
in  an  almost  inaccessible  position.  He  has  served 
as  a  correspondent  also  in  Matabeleland,  the  Soudan 
and  Cuba. 

As  a  small  boat  sailor  he  has  few  superiors,  as  his 
delightful  yarns  upon  his  cruising  experiences  in  the 
Falcon  and  the  Alerte  indicate.  Moreover  he  has  been 
the  leader  of  a  treasure  hunting  expedition,  and  few 
such  quests  have  been  better  fitted  out  or  captained 
with  more  intelligence  and  skill. 

On  a  day  in  January  in  1895  Knight  was  sojourning 
in  Cornwall  when  a  telegram  was  delivered  to  him 
from  the  editor  of  The  Times.  France  was  determined 
upon  the  conquest  of  Madagascar,  and  the  special  for 
the  great  London  paper  was  to  proceed  withotit 
delay  to  Antananarivo,  the  capital  of  the  island,  a 
thousand  miles  long,  off  the  eastern  coast  of  South 
Africa.  The  uncertainty,  the  excitement  and  the 
romance  of  the  life  of  the  special  for  a  powerful  news- 
paper, who  has  the  whole  world  as  his  field  of  oper- 
ations, are  well  illustrated  by  the  experiences  of  this 
correspondent  during  the  period  .of  almost  a  year  which 
he  spent  in  that  comparatively  unknown  region. 

First  of  all  he  had  great  difficulty  in  reaching  the 
scene  of  the  campaign,  and,  in  the  sequel,  while  he 
faced  dangers  in  plenty,  he  saw  scarcely  any  of  the 
little  fighting  that  actually  took  place.  It  had  been 
intended  that  he  should  travel  with  the  French  invaders, 
but  even  Paris  correspondents  were  made  unwel- 
come, and  he  was  refused  the  necessary  permission. 
Thereupon  it  was  decided  that  he  should  hurry  to 
Antananarivo,  the  capital  city,  and  join  there  the 
English  officer,  Colonel  Shervington,  who  was  acting 


EDWARD    FREDERICK    KNIGHT 


EDWARD   FREDERICK  KNIGHT        289 

as  the  military  adviser  of  the  Hovas.  In  England 
it  was  thought  that  the  French  under  General  Duchesne 
would  have  a  hard  time  reaching  the  capital  through 
a  diflScult  country  in  the  face  of  a  brave  and  patriotic 
people.  The  French  were  making  charges  that  the 
British  steamship  traders  were  not  obeying  the  neu- 
trality laws,  whereupon  the  steamship  companies 
announced  they  would  book  no  passengers  for  the  ordi- 
nary ports  of  Madagascar.  But  Knight  was  aboard  a 
vessel  whose  captain  was  an  adventurous  fellow, 
and,  with  the  Rev.  J.  Pearse  of  the  London  Missionary 
Society,  who  had  lived  thirty  years  in  the  country, 
he  was  landed  at  a  little  Hova  settlement  at  the  southern 
end  of  the  island.  He  was  hundreds  of  miles  from 
the  capital  and  to  reach  it  he  would  have  to  travel 
for  many  days  through  a  wilderness  large  portions 
of  which  were  unexplored  and  which  no  Europeans 
had  previously  penetrated. 

Carriers  were  the  first  requisite.  There  were 
few  settlements  and  they  were  far  apart;  supplies 
would  be  hard  to  get;  quite  likely  the  people  would 
be  found  ill  disposed  at  times  and  even  hostile;  and 
there  were  the  chances  of  fever,  starvation,  even  of 
murder  to  be  faced.  The  correspondent  was  burning 
with  impatience  to  be  off  lest  he  miss  the  opening  of 
the  campaign  at  Majunga,  nine  hundred  miles  away, 
where  the  French  would  begin  their  march.  Luck 
came  to  his  aid,  and  the  special  and  the  English  mis- 
sionary started  with  twenty-two  trained  palanquin 
bearers.  "These  men  have  marvellous  agility  and 
endurance,"  wrote  Knight.  "It  is  usual  to  take  eight 
men;  while  four  carry  the  palanquin  the  other  four 
trot  on  in  front  ready  to  take  their  places.  They 
relieve   each   other   at   frequent   intervals,  and  there 


290      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

is  no  check  in  the  pace  when  this  is  done,  the  men 
one  by  one  slipping  nimbly  aside  while  their  fellows 
running  alongside  in  their  turn  place  their  shoulders 
under  the  long  poles.  In  this  way  they  can  easily 
carry  a  man  thirty  miles  a  day  and  more  if  conditions 
are  favorable." 

At  times  they  traveled  at  the  very  edge  of  the 
breakers  on  the  surf-hardened  sand.  Often  they 
plunged  by  narrow  foot-paths  into  the  forest  where 
the  dense  vegetation  shut  out  the  breeze  and  the  light. 
For  miles  they  made  their  way  across  malarious  swamps. 
Fifteen  deep  rivers  whose  waters  were  full  of  crocodiles 
had  to  be  passed  in  dug-outs.  At  one  stream  no  dug- 
out was  to  be  found  and  three  men  braved  the  croc- 
odiles, swimming  to  the  opposite  bank  and  returning 
with  a  boat.  One  beautiful  lake  they  stumbled  upon, 
unmarked  upon  any  map,  which  probably  no  white 
man  had  ever  seen  before.  This  part  of  the  journey 
required  eight  days. 

Their  way  now  lay  through  a  perilous  district  of 
robber  villages  and  blackmailing  kings.  The  leader 
of  the  party  was  successful  in  defying  the  attempts 
of  the  natives  to  levy  exorbitant  tolls.  Halted  upon 
the  bank  of  a  deep  river  a  haK-mile  wide  the  travelers 
were  told  there  would  be  no  ferry  unless  they  paid  a 
heavy  sum.  If  they  submitted  the  tale  would  go  on 
ahead  of  them  and  a  score  of  kings  would  make  like 
demands.  Argument  was  useless;  Knight  drew  his 
revolver,  and  one  by  one  inserted  six  cartridges  while 
the  king  looked  on  and  the  missionary  translated 
the  bearers'  exaggerated  account  of  the  deadliness 
of  the  weapon.  When  the  special  ordered  his  men 
to  seize  the  canoe  and  threatened  to  shoot  the  king 
if   he   interfered,   that   worthy   sulkily   yielded.    By 


EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT        291 

relays  the  men  were  ferried  across,  and  the  king  was 
made  to  go  on  the  last  trip,  as  payment  was  refused 
until  all  were  safe. 

At  one  ford  the  water  was  above  the  shoulders 
of  the  men  and  for  some  paces  above  the  heads  of 
most  of  them,  but  they  stretched  their  arms  high  and 
carried  baggage  and  travelers  across  without  wetting 
them,  shouting  in  chorus,  whenever  their  mouths 
were  above  water,  to  scare  away  the  crocodiles. 

The  bearers  came  down  with  fever  unfortunately 
and  their  places  had  to  be  filled  with  such  men  as 
could  be  hired,  an  unruly  set  as  they  turned  out  to 
be,  Mr.  Pearse  declaring  that  in  all  his  missionary 
travels  he  had  never  had  to  deal  with  such  a  lot  of 
ruflSans.  They  left  the  coast  and  struck  across  the 
great  forest  belt  for  the  central  highlands,  fighting 
the  indifference  of  the  bearers  all  the  way,  and  once 
quelling  what  might  have  been  a  serious  mutiny. 
"Of  all  the  journeys  I  have  ever  made,"  said  Knight, 
"I  think  this  one  was  the  most  disagreeable,  not  on 
account  of  its  natural  diflSculties,  but  because  of  the 
altogether  unnecessary  delays  owing  to  the  bad  dis- 
position of  the  men." 

For  five  days  the  route  lay  through  an  unexplored 
region  which  apparently  no  European  had  before 
visited.  Here  the  bearers  were  at  the  mercy  of  their 
employers  and  became  more  amenable,  making  marches 
of  extraordinary  length,  with  Pearse  and  Knight 
tramping  it  much  of  the  time.  On  the  longest  day's 
march  they  started  at  dawn  and  clambered  up  and 
down  mountain  steeps  hour  after  hour  amid  splendid 
scenery  and  beautiful  waterfalls,  by  dint  of  hard 
scrambling  reaching  the  head  of  the  pass  at  sunset, 
where  they  found  a  highland  village.    There  was  no 


292      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

welcome  for  them.  They  were  suspected  of  being 
French,  and  the  villagers  howled  outside  their  tents 
for  hours.  "At  any  moment  I  expected  to  see  an 
assegai  come  flying  through  the  thin  bamboo  wall," 
wrote  the  correspondent. 

In  the  great  forest  they  plodded  on  for  miles 
without  finding  any  openings,  seeing  the  sun's  light 
only  when  they  went  up  the  avenues  formed  by  the 
beds  of  mountain  torrents.  The  missionary  was 
troubled  by  fever  and  decided  to  stop  at  a  friendly 
village.  Knight  pushed  on  for  the  capital,  which  was 
still  almost  three  hundred  miles  away.  He  secured 
a  fresh  lot  of  willing  and  cheerful  carriers  and  got 
ahead  at  the  rate  of  thirty-three  miles  a  day,  although 
he  was  halted  for  two  days  by  an  attack  of  malarial 
fever  which  threatened  at  one  time  to  become  serious. 

At  last,  on  the  thirty-second  day  from  the  start,  a 
march  which  began  before  daybreak  and  ended  after 
dark  brought  the  indefatigable  special  to  the  rugged 
ridge  on  the  side  and  summit  of  which  Antananarivo 
is  built.  Knight  found  it  to  be  a  very  irregular  city 
of  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  people.  A  heavy 
disappointment  awaited  him;  Colonel  Shervington 
had  resigned. 

A  persistent  story  had  charged  the  English  oflficer 
with  selling  the  capital  to  the  French.  He  had  advised 
the  government  to  fortify  certain  strong  places  on 
the  route  which  the  invaders  would  take;  how  could 
he  have  foretold  the  plans  of  the  French  unless  he 
was  in  their  counsels?  Against  such  reasoning,  and 
with  an  influential  set  of  the  Hovas  intriguing  against 
him,  Colonel  Shervington  had  no  chance. 

There  was  little  likelihood  of  getting  permission 
to  go  out  with  the  Hova  forces.  Knight  was  informed 


EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT        293 

by  the  British  vice-consul.  The  feeling  in  the  capital 
was  strong  against  Europeans  of  all  nationalities. 
Above  all  other  white  men  newspaper  reporters  were 
under  suspicion.  No  Hova  could  understand  the 
nature  of  Knight's  business  and  most  of  them  believed 
him  to  be  a  French  spy.  Burleigh  was  also  in  the 
city  —  how  he  got  there  has  been  related  elsewhere  — 
and  the  two  were  closely  watched;  their  doings  and 
their  sayings  were  reported;  if  they  undertook  a  stroll 
into  the  country  spies  were  at  their  heels.  Access 
to  information  was  denied  by  the  government.  Had 
Knight  tried  to  reach  the  front,  he  would  have  been 
seized  and  imprisoned.  The  Hovas  were  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  art  of  boycotting.  Strenuous  efforts 
were  made  to  suppress  all  news  from  the  war;  a  severe 
censorship  was  actually  instituted  and  all  letters 
were  read  with  care  by  the  clerks  of  the  Foreign  Office. 
In  the  letter  of  a  married  woman  to  a  sister  in  England 
the  Hovas  fancied  they  found  an  important  cipher. 
At  the  bottom  of  the  sheet  there  appeared  some 
strange  characters  and  a  row  of  crosses.  In  due 
time  the  Foreign  Office  learned  that  these  symbols 
were  kisses  for  a  certain  British  baby.  Then,  too,  the 
French  at  the  port  of  Tamatave  were  stopping  most 
letters  and  all  newspapers  from  home,  so  that  Knight 
was  pretty  completely  isolated  from  the  world. 

Nevertheless  he  did  manage  to  send  news  to  his 
paper.  He  was  there  as  a  correspondent  in  a  situation 
almost  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  war  reporting, 
and  he  did  not  propose  to  be  beaten.  Here  is  his 
own  account  of  the  way  in  which  he  smuggled  tele- 
grams and  letters  out  of  the  island: 

"I  found  natives  willing  for  a  small  consideration  to 
risk  their  lives  by  carrying  letters  from  me  to  the  nearest 


294      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

seaport;  there  they  delivered  the  letters  to  my  agent,  who 
in  turn  handed  them  over  to  someone  on  the  first  Castle 
steamer  that  called,  to  be  posted  in  Natal  or  Mauritius.  I 
had  to  use  every  precaution  in  despatching  my  carriers; 
it  would  have  meant  their  destruction  had  the  object  of 
their  visit  to  the  coast  been  suspected.  I  never  employed 
the  same  man  twice;  each  was  paid  his  wages  on  delivering 
my  letter  to  my  agent,  and  not  one  failed  in  getting  through 
despite  the  various  dangers  they  had  to  encounter;  for,  in 
order  to  leave  the  city,  they  had  to  obtain  passports  from 
the  government  under  some  pretext  or  other;  all  the  roads 
were  guarded  by  soldiers  on  the  lookout  for  deserters  from 
the  army  and  smugglers  of  gold-dust  or  letters;  and  every 
traveler  was  carefully  searched  at  Moramanga,  the  second 
stage  from  the  capital  —  the  most  formidable  peril  of  all. 
In  order  to  circumvent  these  searchers  I  used,  as  a  rule,  to 
take  a  copy  of  my  letter  in  flimsy,  roll  the  copy  up  into  as 
small  a  space  as  possible,  and  jam  it  into  the  bottom  of  the 
carrier's  snuff-box,  a  bit  of  bamboo  about  six  inches  long; 
a  false  bottom  would  then  be  driven  into  place  on  top  of 
the  letter,  and  the  bamboo,  filled  with  snuff,  would  then 
present  an  innocent  appearance  that  disarmed  all  suspicion. 
On  one  occasion,  having  no  trustworthy  messenger,  I  had 
to  write  the  words  of  the  highly-compromising  telegram 
in  invisible  ink  on  the  back  of  a  private  letter,  to  be  developed 
by  a  friend  on  the  coast." 

But  somehow  or  other  newspaper  clippings  found 
their  way  back  to  the  remote  capital  of  Madagascar 
and  the  Hovas  learned  that  the  correspondent  was 
eluding  their  watchers  and  sending  news  out  of  the 
island.  His  sources  of  information  and  his  method 
of  beating  their  vigilance  were  a  mystery  and  a  wonder 
to  them.  For  all  the  six  months  that  he  remained 
in  Antananarivo  he  was  hampered,  but  not  defeated, 
by  the  cunning  ingenuity  of  the  natives,  who  hated 
him  cordially,  but  feared  openly  to  molest  him.  He 
was  relying  to  a  considerable  extent  upon  the  native 


EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT        295 

awe  of  the  European.  But  as  he  continued  to  send 
information  out  of  the  island  about  the  corruption 
of  the  government  and  the  discreditable  intrigues 
of  the  leaders  of  the  people,  and  especially  when  the 
approach  of  the  column  of  the  invaders  had  excited 
a  really  dangerous  feeling  against  the  foreigners  in 
the  capital,  and  when  his  most  compromising  letters 
had  returned  to  the  Hova  government  to  accuse  him, 
he  found  his  position  becoming  very  difficult,  and  he 
breathed  much  more  freely  when  the  French  were  in 
sight  from  the  city. 

Neither  himself  nor  Burleigh  had  been  entirely 
without  communication  with  that  advancing  force 
of  French  soldiers,  for  they  had  found  a  courageous 
native  of  the  carrier  class  who  ventured  again  and 
again  into  the  vicinity  of  the  invading  column  on  the 
scout  for  news.  His  ostensible  profession  was  that 
of  a  peddler  of  salt,  snuff,  soap  and  sugar  in  the  camps 
of  the  Hovas;  his  stock  in  trade  was  supplied  by  the 
correspondents.  Furnished  with  a  passport  in  full 
and  proper  form  he  would  make  his  way  to  the  lines 
of  the  defense,  go  about  from  troop  to  troop  for  several 
days,  finally  visiting  the  outposts  and  getting  at  least 
a  glimpse  of  the  French.  By  a  similar  plan  Knight 
kept  himself  posted  upon  the  news  of  the  palace  and 
the  cabinet  meetings. 

In  the  city  there  were  about  forty  British  subjects, 
missionaries,  traders,  miners,  a  wanderer  or  two, 
and  the  newspaper  men.  It  became  unsafe  for  an 
Englishman  to  visit  the  markets.  A  meeting  to  go 
over  the  situation  was  held  in  the  vice-consulate, 
when  the  representative  of  the  British  government 
advised  all  Europeans  to  leave  for  the  coast.  The 
missionaries  were  all  for  staying  in  the  city  and  in 


296     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  end  all  did  remain.  The  vice-consulate,  a  sub- 
stantial brick  house,  was  chosen  for  a  rallying  place 
in  case  the  Hova  mob  actually  broke  loose  and  attacked 
the  foreigners.  So  circumspect  was  it  necessary  for 
Knight  to  be  that  when  a  great  camp  of  10,000 
men  was  established  on  the  plain  below  the  city  he 
barely  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  review  from  a  distance 
through  a  telescope. 

There  was  now  but  one  thing  for  him  to  do.  He 
could  not  get  to  the  front;  he  must  simply  wait  for 
the  front  to  come  to  him.  Excitement  mounted  high 
as  the  French  neared  the  city.  He  saw  hundreds 
of  barrels  of  powder  being  carried  up  to  the  palace 
and  heard  the  rumor  that  the  queen  intended  to  blow 
up  the  building  as  the  French  entered  her  capital. 
And  then,  quite  suddenly,  he  heard  the  booming  of 
distant  cannon,  and  thus  learned  that  at  last  the 
invaders  were  in  touch  with  the  city.  "I  was  exceed- 
ingly fortunate,"  he  wrote,  "to  find  a  man  this  day 
willing  to  travel  for  me  to  port.  So  I  entrusted  him 
with  a  letter  and  telegram  to  The  Times,  I  knew  that 
would  be  my  last  opportunity  before  the  arrival  of 
the  French." 

At  this  juncture  the  Hovas  did  make  something  of 
a  stand.  For  four  days  there  was  mild  fighting  outside 
the  city,  but  as  soon  as  the  natives  were  exposed  to 
the  fire  of  the  French  guns  they  ran  away.  Through 
this  period  the  Europeans  kept  out  of  the  chief  streets 
and  stood  ready  to  barricade  their  houses  at  a  minute's 
notice.  At  the  end  the  Hfe  of  the  queen  was  in  danger 
and  Knight  had  his  part  in  framing  a  plan  to  rescue 
her.  He  says:  "I  was  myself  in  the  plot  to  save  her 
from  any  attempt  to  kill  her  —  I  had  arranged  to 
assist  her  to  fly.    But  the  watch  was  too  close,  and 


EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT        297 

she  had  to  stay  in  her  palace  and  be  bombarded." 
Every  hour  the  sound  of  musketry  volleys  and 
artillery  fire  became  louder,  but  in  the  capital  it  was 
impossible  to  learn  what  was  really  taking  place  — 
a  sore  predicament  indeed  for  a  war  reporter.  Then 
on  September  29,  1895,  at  noon.  Knight  had  his  first 
ghmpse  of  the  invaders,  "a  long  dark  line  of  infantry 
and  baggage  mules  streaming  along  a  ridge  on  the 
skyline  three  miles  away."  Never  was  a  town  bom- 
barded after  a  more  humane  fashion.  After  about 
four  hours  a  Hova  on  horseback  with  a  few  attendants 
was  seen  ascending  the  hill  in  front  of  the  English 
watchers,  bearing  a  white  flag.  The  queen  had  sur- 
rendered. 

The  next  glimpse  of  The  Times  special  discloses 
him  on  camel  back  in  the  Nubian  desert,  "as  utterly 
desolate  a  place  as  any  region  in  the  world."  He  had 
started  in  the  midst  of  a  sandstorm,  when  objects  a 
hundred  yai*ds  away  could  not  be  seen,  and  in  a  stifling 
atmosphere  with  the  thermometer  at  one  hundred  and 
seventeen  degrees  in  the  shade.  He  had  marched  all 
night,  halted  at  dawn  for  an  hour,  then  fared  on  again 
along  a  road  which  could  not  be  missed  because  of  the 
bleached  bones  of  the  camels,  to  the  number  of  many 
thousands,  with  which  the  route  was  strewn.  There 
was  not  an  insect  to  be  seen,  and  not  a  vulture  floated 
overhead.  After  making  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
in  sixty-five  hours  there  was  sighted  a  sandy  basin 
surrounded  by  rugged  hills  of  black  rock,  upon  whose 
tops  were  perched  three  forts,  with  camels,  sheep  and 
goats  below  them.  These  were  the  Wells  of  Murat,  the 
most  southerly  post  held  by  the  Egyptians  and  the 
nearest  point  to  Khartoum  which  had  been  visited  by 
EngHshmen  in  many  years. 


298     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

It  was  but  four  months  since  the  correspondent 
had  reached  London  after  his  year  in  Madagascar. 
He  had  left  on  his  ten  days'  journey  for  Assuan, 
seven  hundred  and  thirty  miles  up  the  Nile,  within  a 
few  hours  of  the  information  reaching  the  newspaper 
office  that  an  expedition  to  Dongola  had  been  deter- 
mined upon  by  the  government.  From  Assuan  to 
Korosko  the  march  was  made  up  the  river  bank  with 
the  daily  temperature  one  hundred  and  twelve  degrees 
in  the  shade.  At  Korosko  the  Sirdar  gave  permission 
for  Knight  to  make  the  camel  ride  to  Murat  Wells  and 
thence  across  the  desert  to  Wady  HaKa.  The  wells  were 
but  "brackish  little  pools,"  but  they  were  on  the  frontier, 
haK-way  between  the  Egyptian  and  Dervish  posts, 
and  therefore  of  great  strategic  importance.  At  the 
centre  also  of  a  great  arc  made  by  the  Nile,  with  many 
tracks  radiating  from  them,  these  wells  were  fought 
over  many  times.  The  correspondent  carried  letters 
to  the  sheik  in  command  of  the  Arab  irregulars  sta- 
tioned there. 

From  the  wells  the  start  for  Wady  Haifa  was 
made  on  the  afternoon  of  the  eighth  of  May,  1896. 
With  Knight  was  another  correspondent  and  five  irregu- 
lars, "  each  clad  in  a  picturesque  white  robe,  girt  with 
a  cartridge  belt,  and  with  a  Martini-Henry  rifle  slung 
on  the  saddle  of  the  wiry  Httle  camel  which  he  rode." 
From  seven  to  eleven  the  party  halted,  then  they  rode 
until  six  in  the  morning,  when  they  rested  again  for 
five  hours.  Resuming  the  march  they  rode  all  day 
through  an  enchanted  land,  a  succession  of  mirages, 
"wherein  they  could  not  be  certain  that  anything 
was  real  save  the  sand  immediately  beneath  them. 
On  the  horizon  extended  ranges  of  pleasant  hills  from 
which  rivers  flowed  in  broad  belts  of  rippling  blue. 


EDWARD   FREDERICK  KNIGHT        299 

They  saw  lakes  of  breaking  waves,  on  whose  shores 
were  palms  and  long  grasses,  and  a  wild  coast  with 
deep  rock-enclosed  fiords  and  far-jutting  promontories." 

Moreover  they  were  riding  through  the  desert  on  the 
hottest  day  Knight  had  ever  known.  It  was  one  hundred 
and  twenty  degrees  in  the  shade,  "  if  there  had  been  any 
shade,"  said  the  special,  and  even  the  Bedouin  felt  the 
oppression.  The  sun  glared,  the  sand  scorched,  and  the 
air  was  destitute  of  all  movement.  They  made  a  long 
halt  at  sunset,  and  then  sent  ahead  the  slower  baggage 
camels  with  three  of  the  guides,  while  the  two  cor- 
respondents and  the  two  remaining  guides  started 
at  two  in  the  morning  to  overtake  the  advance  party. 
But  they  had  made  a  mistake  in  separating  themselves 
from  their  baggage  in  that  desert;  they  trotted  until 
dawn  without  overtaking  the  others.  When  day 
came  they  could  find  no  tracks  of  the  camels  of  their 
friends,  but  they  went  on,  constantly  scanning  the 
horizon  which  already  was  beginning  to  quiver  with 
the  mirage. 

With  grave  anxiety  they  reasoned  over  the  situ- 
ation. The  others  were  surely  not  in  front,  so  they 
themselves  must  be  behind  or  lost.  An  isolated 
pyramid  of  rock  appeared  to  the  north,  about  two 
hundred  feet  high,  with  an  almost  perpendicular 
cliff  to  the  west  which  would  afford  shelter  from  the 
sun  until  midday.  They  would  make  this  a  rendezvous 
while  they  looked  for  their  missing  companions. 
When  they  started  for  it  the  rock  seemed  but  a  few 
hundred  yards  distant.  After  a  ride  of  a  half-hour 
it  seemed  to  dwindle  in  size  and  to  recede  until  it  was 
a  good  five  miles  away.  For  a  time  again  it  loomed 
large  and  near.  "But,"  says  Knight,  "we  put  no 
faith  in  its  appearance  and  would  not  even  assume 


300     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

that  it  had  any  real  existence  at  all  —  for  the  desert 
was  now  full  of  ghosts  —  until  we  came  at  last  into 
absolute  contact  with  its  black  crags,  and  were  resting 
under  its  friendly  shade." 

A  human  skull  lay  on  the  sand,  and  crouching 
against  the  rock  was  the  skeleton  of  a  man  who  clearly 
had  died  of  the  agony  of  thirst.  Long  and  carefully 
they  searched  for  their  comrades.  A  keen-sighted 
guide  at  last  discerned  some  black  objects  which 
"seemed  to  be  tossing  on  the  waves  of  a  distant  lake." 
The  guide  declared  them  to  be  men  on  camels,  and 
they  proved  to  be  the  missing  half  of  the  party,  who 
had  lost  their  way  and  were  seriously  alarmed.  And 
now  eleven  hours  of  hard  riding  brought  them  to 
Wady  Haifa,  making  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
miles  from  Murat  Wells  in  sixty-four  hours,  and  with 
baggage  animals  at  that. 

That  summer  on  the  Nubian  desert  was  the  most 
trying  season  that  had  been  endured  within  the  memory 
of  man.  The  ride  to  the  wells  was  but  one  of  several 
adventures  which  make  the  outstanding  incidents 
in  the  story  of  Knight's  life  in  that  campaign.  The 
date  and  nature  of  the  impending  operations  were 
guarded  with  utmost  secrecy.  The  spies  of  the 
Khalifa  were  known  to  be  in  the  camp  of  the  Sirdar 
disguised  as  camel  drivers  and  servants.  The  corre- 
spondents were  taken  on  a  crowded  train  to  Akasheh 
and  there  advised  to  be  ready  to  start  with  the  troops 
at  a  minute's  notice.  On  June  6,  they  were  told  that 
the  field  force  would  march  that  night  for  Ferkeh  and 
that  the  dervish  position  was  to  be  attacked  at  dawn. 
It  was  the  intention  of  the  Sirdar  to  surprise  the  enemy, 
capture  the  leaders,  and  cripple  the  defence  of  Dongola. 

The  march  that  night  was  as  remarkable  as  the 


EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT        301 

march  in  the  north  years  before,  when  the  naval 
lieutenant  had  guided  the  troops  by  the  stars,  but 
this  was  a  very  dark  night,  and  the  desert  column 
was  guided  over  the  trackless  sands  by  a  cavalry 
captain.  It  was  a  march  of  sixteen  miles.  One 
column  went  by  the  river,  but  the  Sirdar  was  with 
the  desert  force.  So  silent  was  the  advance  that  a 
straggler  twenty  paces  away  would  surely  be  lost. 
There  was  no  moon  and  only  occasionally  were  there 
glimpses  of  the  river;  no  bugles  were  blown  and  no 
smoking  was  permitted.  After  marching  twelve  miles 
the  troops  went  into  bivouac.  Knight  dismounted 
about  midnight  and  lay  on  the  sand  with  his  horse 
standing  at  his  side.  After  two  in  the  morning  the 
march  was  resumed;  at  half  past  four  the  first  gleam 
of  dawn  appeared,  and  the  troops  were  deployed  into 
fighting  formation;  and  at  five  the  force  was  seen  by 
a  party  of  camel  men  and  the  first  shot  was  fired. 

At  seven  the  battle  was  over,  a  short  but  terribly 
sharp  action.  Knight  watched  the  dervishes  "stand 
undismayed  in  the  open,  and  fight  with  dogged  deter- 
mination in  the  face  of  the  deadly  volley  fire."  Each 
man  wounded  was  a  dangerous  and  treacherous  foe 
until  he  breathed  his  last.  The  special  rode  close 
to  one  wounded  dervish  and  looked  down  upon  his 
upturned  face,  not  a  muscle  of  which  quivered.  He 
had  been  badly  hit,  and  the  correspondent  had  no 
idea  there  was  life  in  him,  but  scarcely  had  he  ridden 
three  yards  beyond,  when  there  was  the  report  of  a 
rifle  just  behind  him,  and  a  bullet  whistled  past  his 
head.  In  the  battle  the  Khalifa  lost  practically  all 
his  commanders  on  that  side  of  Dongola.  To  their 
valor  Knight  paid  this  tribute:  "I  doubt  whether 
any  other  men  in  the  world  would  have  stood,  as 


302     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

these  men  stood,  for  nearly  two  hours  against  such 
fearful  odds." 

With  the  advancing  forces  of  the  Sirdar  had  come 
the  telegraph  wire.  A  great  part  of  the  way  it  was 
simply  stretched  on  the  sand  without  insulation,  the 
sand  "in  that  dry  country  being  an  absolute  non- 
conductor of  electricity."  There  had  never  been  an 
attempt  before  with  a  Morse  instrument  to  send  a 
story  over  such  a  length  of  wire  laid  on  the  bare  ground. 
As  the  army  had  but  a  single  strand  of  wire,  its  use 
was  limited  to  a  certain  number  of  words  per  day. 
No  correspondent  was  permitted  to  send  more  than 
two  hundred  words  in  a  single  despatch.  After  his 
colleagues  had  sent  their  respective  quotas  he  might 
send  another  two  hundred,  and  so  on  in  alternation. 
Thus  the  news  of  the  victory  was  sent  piecemeal  to 
London. 

In  the  Spanish- American  war  Ralph  D.  Paine 
watched  Knight  land  on  the  Cuban  coast  near  Havana 
for  the  purpose  of  interviewing  the  Captain-General. 
In  his  "adventurous  but  unassuming  way,"  equipped 
with  a  note-book,  a  revolver,  a  water-bottle  and  a  pack- 
age of  sandwiches,  the  correspondent,  again  repre- 
senting The  Times,  stepped  into  a  flat-bottomed  skiff 
from  a  newspaper  despatch  boat,  and  placidly  said 
good-bye,  ignoring  entirely  the  probability  that  he 
would  be  taken  for  an  Americano  by  the  first  Spanish 
patrol  he  met  and  shot  without  parley.  Again  in 
the  war  between  Greece  and  Turkey,  Knight  proved 
his  quality.  An  artillery  duel  was  in  progress;  the 
Greek  gunners  were  doing  well,  but  their  nervousness 
was  marked;  whereupon  Knight  and  another  cor- 
respondent felt  themselves  not  to  be  justified  in  taking 
shelter  in  the  fort,  but  considered  it  to  be  their  duty 


EDWARD  FREDERICK  KNIGHT        303 

to  write  the  long  telegrams  they  were  sending  while 
making  their  observations  in  the  open  and  under  fire. 
The  example  was  appreciated;  the  officers  warmly 
thanked  the  newspaper  men,  and  when  there  was  a 
lull  in  the  firing  a  great  number  of  Greeks  came  together 
and  lustily  cheered  the  reporters.  Under  circumstances 
distinctly  creditable  to  his  courage,  Knight  lost  his 
arm.  He  was  with  the  force  of  Lord  Methuen  for 
the  Morning  Post.  At  the  first  engagement  near 
Belmont  the  correspondent  and  two  soldiers  were 
deceived  by  a  white  handkerchief  which  a  Boer  fastened 
to  the  end  of  his  rifle.  Kjiight  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
was  instantly  hit  by  a  bullet.  The  wound  was  so 
severe  that  he  was  taken  at  once  to  Cape  Towq,  but 
the  arm  could  not  be  saved. 


CHAPTER  X 
GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS 

"  He  initiated  not  only  a  new  conception  of  journalism,  but  a  new  style 
of  English  writing,  never  seen  either  before  or  since." 

— Oscar  Brovming. 

"  He  was  a  model  correspondent,  the  best  I  have  ever  known,  and  I  should 
like  to  say  how  greatly  grieved  I  am  at  his  death." 

— LordKitchener. 

"Through  war  and  pestilence,  red  siege  and  fire. 
Silent  and  self-contained  he  drew  his  breath; 
Brave,  not  for  show  of  courage  —  his  desire 
Truth,  as  he  saw  it,  even  to  the  death." 

— Rudyard  Kipling. 

The  death  at  Ladysmith  on  January  15,  1900,  of 
the  gifted  special  of  the  London  Daily  Mail  was  mourned 
by  the  entire  English-speaking  world.  He  was  carried 
off  by  enteric  fever,  which,  suggests  W.  E.  Henley, 
"being  translated  is  filth  and  low  living,"  and  his 
memorialist  adds,  quite  justly,  that  in  him  there  was 
lost  "as  fine  a  spirit,  as  rare  and  completely  trained 
a  brain,  and  as  brave  a  heart"  as  the  English  people 
had  to  show.  Steevens  was  an  almost  unique  com- 
bination of  scholar  and  journalist,  competent  to  review 
such  a  work  as  Balfour's  "Foundations  of  Belief," 
and  in  his  "Monologues  of  the  Dead"  to  bring  the 
characters  of  the  ancient  world  into  intimate  and  living 
contact  with  the  men  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and 
also  to  present  in  a  series  of  graphic  paragraphs  the 
incidents  of  a  battle  and  the  life  of  a  camp  so  vividly, 
that  breakfast  table  readers  in  distant  cities,  however 
slow  of  wit  and  dull  of  imagination,  were  stirred  by 
his  impressionistic  sketches.  This  pictorial  quality 
was  the  outstanding  feature  of  his  work  as  a  special 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS     305 

correspondent.  All  details  were  quickly  sifted  through 
his  mind;  the  right  ones  were  retained  and  built  into 
paragraphs  that  clutched  and  held  the  reader.  The 
visual  effect  seemed  always  to  be  his  aim. 

Born  in  a  London  suburb,  Steevens  became  a  prize 
boy,  a  prize  student,  an  exhibitioner,  the  youngest 
of  the  dons,  and  the  winner  of  so  many  scholarships 
and  medals  that  he  was  called  "the  Balliol  prodigy." 
He  might  have  devoted  his  life  to  the  minutiae  of 
classical  scholarship.  Instead  he  took  a  place  on  the 
staff  of  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette  and  came  out  into  the 
world.  William  Waldorf  Astor  had  bought  the  paper 
and  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  an  editor  who  knew  nothing 
of  "the  street"  but  who  was  daring  and  resourceful 
in  high  degree.  Brilliant  young  men  flocked  to  his 
staff.  Steevens,  with  the  applause  of  his  fellows  of 
the  schools  still  ringing  in  his  ears,  now  had  to  take 
both  execration  and  praise,  "now  writing  flippant 
paragraphs  and  now  handling  matters  which  might 
embroil  two  kingdoms." 

In  1895  the  Gazette  changed  editors  and  Steevens, 
upon  the  invitation  of  Alfred  Harmsworth,  went  to 
the  Daily  Mail.  There  now  remained  to  him  little 
more  than  four  years  of  active  newspaper  life.  He 
was  sent  to  report  the  trial  of  Alfred  Dreyfus,  and 
with  remarkable  keenness  he  investigated  the  rumor 
of  an  Irish  famine.  The  paper  then  sent  him  to 
the  war  between  Turkey  and  Greece,  to  the  Nile 
with  Kitchener,  to  India  with  Lord  Curzon,  and  to 
South  Africa,  where  he  died. 

When  he  began  his  first  war  trail  Steevens  says  he 
bound  himself  with  a  vow  to  state  nothing  on  any 
authority  unless  he  had  seen  it  himself  or  had  heard 
it  from  a  European  who  had  seen  it,  and  he  declares 


306     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

that,  although  the  resolution  cost  him  some  excellent 
stories,  on  the  whole  he  did  not  regret  it.  He  had 
come  to  Salonica  as  a  war  correspondent  only  to  find 
there  neither  a  war  nor  the  possibility  of  sending  out 
news.  He  must  find  a  way  to  get  to  headquarters 
at  Elassona,  and  that  was  the  one  thing  impossible 
to  be  done.  The  Turk  had  no  confidence  in  the  "  casual 
European"  and  no  liking  for  press  men.  While  he 
waited  for  the  war,  Steevens  listed  the  things  he  would 
need  at  the  front.     Here  is  the  inventory  of  the  outfit: 

"One  dragoman,  one  cavass,  two  saddle-horses,  two 
pack-horses,  saddle  and  bridle  English  style,  saddle  and 
bridle  Turkish  style,  two  pack-saddles,  brushes  and  curry- 
comb, halters,  hobbles,  nose-bags,  rope,  two  kit-bags,  a 
chair,  a  table,  a  fez,  a  waterproof  sheet,  towels,  knives, 
forks,  spoons,  a  few  yards  of  waterproof  canvas,  a  bed,  a 
pillow,  a  quilt,  a  cartridge-belt,  water-bottle,  bucket,  quinine, 
hy permanganate  of  potassium,  frying-pan,  teapot,  japanned 
dishes,  japanned  plates,  japanned  cups  and  mugs,  two 
lanterns,  a  cheap  watch,  a  thousand  cigarettes,  champagne, 
whiskey,  port,  sauterne,  punsch  likor,  native  hams,  native 
tongues,  tea,  sugar,  cocoa,  tinned  beef,  tinned  salmon, 
tinned  herrings,  sardines,  salt,  biscuits,  Worcester  sauce, 
cheeses,  Eno's  fruit  salt,  corned  beef,  laundry  soap,  tinned 
peas,  tinned  beans,  tinned  oysters,  tinned  jam,  tinned  sau- 
sages, tinned  egg-powder,  tinned  ginger-beer  powder,  tinned 
butter,  and  180  pounds  of  oats.'* 

But  as  he  went  towards  Elassona  his  baggage  grew 
less  every  hour.  He  had  acquired  the  dragoman, 
"Charley,"  and  had  spent  three  days  buying  four 
horses,  after  the  approved  fashion  of  bargaining  there 
in  vogue.  After  an  all-night  ride  he  reached  Elassona, 
where  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  50,000  soldiers. 
Bugles  were  ringing  from  the  hills;  men  were  washing 
ragged  linen  in  the  streams.  He  slept  in  a  bag  on 
the  bare  floor  of  a  bare  little  room;  on  each  side  of 


Copyright  by  p:iliott  &  Fry,  Ltd.,  London,  W 
GEORGE   WARRINGTON    STEEVENS 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS     307 

him  snored  a  fellow  war  correspondent.  He  was 
under  military  law;  technically,  he  was  a  first-class 
camp  follower.  Under  his  hand  he  kept  his  saddle- 
bags packed  with  provisions  for  two  days,  but  he  was 
unhappy  only  because  there  as  yet  was  no  war. 

He  stayed  on  at  Elassona,  watching  the  "patient, 
weary,  steadfast  soldiers"  standing  to  their  guns  in 
sheets  of  rain,  patrolling  the  mountain  tops  in  shrieking 
winds,  and  humped  on  their  pack-saddles  as  they 
brought  up  cartridge-boxes  and  ammunition  bags. 
After  a  week  serious  news  arrived;  the  Greeks  were 
said  to  have  attacked  in  force.  There  had  been  hard 
fighting  through  an  entire  night.  With  "Charley," 
Steevens  started  for  Karya.  As  they  struggled  on 
there  came  a  new  experience.  "*Pop,  pop;  pop,  pop, 
pop;  pop,  pop,  pop,  pop,  pop;  pop.'"  His  "heart 
began  to  try  to  keep  time  with  the  pops."  He  "turned 
a  corner  and  came  on  the  village  —  small  and  ram- 
shackle and  dirty  —  wedged  into  a  recess  under  hills 
like  cataracts  suddenly  turned  to  stone,  and  above 
these  the  solemn  whiteness  of  Olympus."  Olympus 
was  "the  background  of  Karya;  its  foreground  was 
the  fight."  He  "sees  a  little  shiver  of  excitement  run 
round  a  group  of  aides-de-camp,  and  hastens  to  ask 
about  it."     It  was  great  news;  war  was  declared. 

Exultant  over  the  good  news  which  had  come  at 
last,  Steevens  jumped  on  his  pony,  turned  the  tired 
pack-horse,  not  yet  unladen  of  his  baggage,  and 
started  full  scramble  back  to  headquarters,  leaving 
the  fight  to  crackle  on  as  it  would.  The  following  day 
was  Easter  Sunday  and  he  was  off  to  join  the  Marshal 
and  his  staff.  He  was  very  happy;  he  had  not  come 
out  in  vain.     He  was  "going  to  see  the  biggest  fight 


308     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

since  Plevna,"  so  he  marched  on  only  to  draw  up  below 
a  row  of  small,  steep,  barren  hills. 

On  the  crests  the  Greeks  held  the  line  of  block- 
houses. To  attack  these  the  Turkish  infantry  crawled 
up  the  slopes.  Until  seven  in  the  evening  the  fighting 
continued.  When  he  could  not  see  he  heard  the  bugles 
sounding  the  advance;  the  Turks  were  charging  with 
fixed  bayonets.  The  Greeks  stood  their  ground  until 
the  assailants  were  about  thirty  yards  away,  and  gave 
back.  In  the  morning  the  Turks  found  the  Greeks 
gone.  The  battle  of  Meluna  had  been  won  and 
the  Turks  had  gained  the  gate  of  Thessaly.^  Steevens 
rode  over  the  battle-ground  and  noted  how  spread 
out  were  the  forces,  each  man  building  himself  a  little 
heap  of  stones  behind  which  he  took  shelter  and 
fired  when  the  spirit  moved  him.  It  was  the  tradi- 
tional hill  fighting  of  the  Balkans. 

After  a  week  the  invasion  of  Thessaly  began. 
"Down,  down  they  wound  along  the  zigzags  of  Meluna 
—  horse  and  foot  and  guns  in  a  stream  that  looked 
as  if  it  would  last  forever  and  choke  up  the  whole 
plain."  There  followed  the  deciding  action  of  the 
first  stage  of  the  war,  the  battle  of  Mati,  which  won  the 
town  of  Larissa.  Steevens  started  the  instant  he 
heard  of  the  occupation  of  the  place  to  ride  straight 
across  country  for  it,  "intending  to  swim  the  rivers, 
but  at  all  costs  to  get  into  Larissa  with  all  speed." 
There  was  no  water  in  the  first  river.  In  their  panic 
the  Greeks  had  not  even  broken  the  bridge  over  the 
second.  Over  a  road  two  inches  deep  in  white  dust 
he  made  his  way  into  the  town,  where  he  set  up  house- 
keeping, purposing  to  make  it  his  base  for  the  balance 
of  the  campaign.  Of  what  he  saw  when  he  entered 
Larissa  he  wrote  a  vivid  account: 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON   STEEVENS     309 

"Never  could  there  be  seen  more  hopeless,  headless, 
handless  confusion.  Saddles  and  harness  were  strewn 
in  heaps;  regimental  papers  flew  before  the  winds  in  clouds. 
There  was  a  knapsack,  here  a  cap,  there  an  artillery  am- 
munition wagon  hanging  over  the  ditch,  with  the  wheels 
broken  and  the  traces  cut;  there  —  shame!  —  a  little  pile 
of  cartridges.  A  soldier  may  throw  away  much,  and  there 
is  still  hope  for  him;  once  he  begins  to  throw  away  cartridges, 
there  is  none.  And  there  by  the  roadside  were  a  couple 
of  dead  Greeks,  their  swollen  faces  black  with  flies;  they 
had  been  killed  by  their  comrades  in  the  stampede.  .  .  . 

"As  the  dominant  impression  of  the  town  was  the  sweet 
smell  of  laburnums  in  the  public  places,  of  roses  and  sweet 
peas  in  the  gardens,  so  the  impression  of  the  occupation 
of  the  town  was  fragrant  and  kindly.  The  entry  of  the 
Turkish  troops  into  Larissa  was  the  sweetest  and  most 
lovable  thing  I  had  seen  during  this  week  of  war.  That 
the  Turkish  army  entering  a  town  taken  from  the  enemy 
should  be  a  pleasant  sight,  should  be  almost  a  kind  of  Sun- 
day-school treat,  will  be  surprising  information  to  many 
Englishmen.     But  I  have  eyes  in  my  head,  and  I  saw  it." 

The  next  start  was  for  Velestino,  and  in  the  first 
stage  of  the  fighting  there  the  Turks  were  beaten. 
One  correspondent,  with  the  censorship  in  his  mind, 
called  it  a  "concentration  in  rear."  While  most 
remember  the  fight  for  Mahmud's  charge,  Steevens 
declared  he  would  remember  it  as  **the  battle  of 
thirst."  **Men,  horses,  asses,  the  heavens  above  and 
the  earth  beneath,  all  were  parched  and  caked  and 
burned  and  split  with  the  raging  thirst.  Not  a  breath 
of  air  came  over  the  hills  where  the  Greek  smoke  hung 
heavily."  As  the  sun  climbed  up  "the  hard  blue  sky" 
it  became  at  midday  more  than  even  the  Turks  could 
bear,  "the  sturdiest  bearer  of  things  unbearable  in 
the  whole  world."  The  horses  seemed  dazed  and 
stupid  in  the  pitiless  glare,  the  troopers  lay  down 
"each  behind  his  horse  in  the  little  patches  of  shadow 


310     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and  went  to  sleep  with  their  mouths  open."  As 
he  rode  along  the  line  the  special  "met  eyes  of  wild, 
wondering  distress,  mixed  with  the  beginnings  of 
despair." 

At  fall  of  dusk  most  of  the  correspondents  were  off 
for  Larissa  with  their  despatches,  a  ride  of  thirty-five 
miles  out  and  thirty-five  back.  Even  a  Salonica  pony 
could  hardly  do  it  after  such  a  day.  Steevens 
with  his  messmates  decided  to  make  another  night 
of  it  on  the  ground.  Their  sentinels  brought  them 
the  news  that  Mushir  Pasha  was  marching  for  Pharsala, 
where  they  witnessed  a  battle  which  'Vas  a  race 
between  night  and  victory,  and  night  won."  But 
it  was  *'one  very  fine  bit  of  fighting,"  and  Steevens 
found  it  worth  coming  from  England  to  see. 

One  of  the  most  amusing  experiences  recorded 
in  all  the  annals  of  war  correspondence  now  fell  to  the 
lot  of  Steevens  and  his  companions.  On  May  7,  they 
rode  to  Velestino.  At  four  the  next  morning  a  blue- 
jacket waving  the  British  flag  opposite  the  railway 
station,  and  in  the  very  middle  of  the  Turkish  army, 
attracted  their  attention.  A  deputation  of  British  and 
French  consuls  had  come  to  tell  them  that  the  town 
of  Volo  was  evacuated  and  at  their  mercy  and  to  beg 
them  not  to  harm  the  peaceable  inhabitants.  Appar- 
ently some  British  journalists  were  to  save  the  Greeks 
whom  the  Greek  army  had  left  to  their  fate.  The  little 
company  galloped  for  Volo,  Steevens,  two  English 
and  one  American  special,  a  Turkish  officer,  a  stray 
cavalry  trooper  picked  up  on  the  way,  and  two  Al- 
banian cavasses.  The  Sultan's  young  aide-de-camp 
took  no  single  step  without  consulting  Steevens  and 
his  comrades.  The  people  of  Volo  seemed  to  the 
handful    of   invaders   to   be   greatly   frightened,    but 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS     311 

as  they  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the  town  and  mur- 
dered no  one  the  populace  grew  more  assured  and 
hopeful.  To  the  town  hall  they  clattered  and  strode 
to  the  council  chamber.  There  was  a  little  delay  in 
finding  some  one  wilHng  to  act  for  the  mayor  and  sign 
the  surrender  of  the  place.  Then  a  proclamation  was 
read  from  the  balcony  to  a  thousand  standing  in  the 
street.  Their  cowed  faces  brightened;  they  were 
to  be  spared.  A  Greek  in  the  balcony  called  for 
three  cheers  for  the  Sultan,  and  they  were  given 
with  a  will. 

It  was  not  precisely  a  capitulation,  because  the 
town  was  not  occupied  in  the  military  sense,  but  the 
aide-de-camp  took  the  advice  of  the  specials  very  se- 
riously, and  Steevens  demurely  recorded  his  opinion 
that  it  was  **a  rather  fine  thing"  for  two  correspond- 
ents of  the  Daily  Mail  to  negotiate  the  surrender. 

The  most  furious  fight  of  the  entire  war  ensued  at 
Domoko.  To  the  right  and  left  of  the  little  hill  on 
which  the  specials  posted  themselves  were  ten  batteries 
hammering  away  at  the  Greek  guns.  Over  their  hill 
the  Greek  shells  whizzed  and  sometimes  dropped 
among  the  horses  on  each  side.  Mainly  they  fired 
at  the  men  from  Adrianople  who  were  moving  for- 
ward; they  were  "peppered"  but  they  still  went  on; 
they  came  within  a  thousand  yards  of  the  entrench- 
ments and  there  burst  "from  the  Greek  lines  a  hellish 
storm."  There  were  "savage  volleys  snarling  along 
the  trenches  in  front  and  right  and  left"  but  they 
still  went  on.  Their  "poor  little  individual  puffs 
showed  pitifully  by  the  side  of  the  smashing,  crashing 
hail  of  the  Greeks."  But  they  went  on  and  on,  and 
at  five  hundred  yards,  emerging  out  of  a  com  field, 
they  halted,  but  they  clung  to  their  position.     Night 


312     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

fell,  and  still  they  clung  there.  A  quarter  of  their 
four  thousand  men  were  killed  and  wounded.  All 
night  long  the  wounded  came  groaning  and  limping 
past  the  specials'  campfire  on  the  hill,  but  during  the 
night  the  Greeks  slipped  away  over  the  Furka  Pass  to 
Lamia. 

In  the  early  morning  Steevens  rode  forward  and 
"began  to  ascend  the  woodland  serpentine  of  the  pass." 
He  was  able  to  watch  the  fighting,  how  "the  crimson 
bunting  and  white  fezzes  crawled  on  with  caution, 
yet  with  swiftness,"  how  there  would  be  "here  a  swift 
glide  forward  and  there  a  shot  or  two  under  cover." 
And  then  "from  somewhere  about  Lamia"  there  ap- 
peared a  white  flag.  They  must  cease  firing  and  go 
no  further  down  the  pass.  The  news  of  the  armistice 
had  reached  them.  "And  that  was  the  end  of  the 
Turco-Grecian  war,"  says  Steevens. 

In  less  than  a  year  the  Daily  MaiVs  correspondent 
was  on  the  Nile.  He  found  Wady  Haifa  looking  "for 
all  the  world  like  Chicago  in  a  turban,"  and  Kitchener 
making  war  "not  with  bayonets,  but  with  rivets  and 
spindle-glands."  His  reports  of  the  campaigns  of 
Atbara  and  Omdurman  are  a  series  of  brilliant 
impressionisms. 

For  example: 

"Haifa  clangs  from  morning  till  night  with  rails  lassoed 
and  drawn  up  a  sloping  pair  of  their  fellows  by  many  con- 
victs onto  trucks;  it  thuds  with  sleepers  and  bully-beef 
dumped  on  to  the  shore.  As  you  come  home  from  dinner 
you  stumble  over  strange  rails,  and  sudden  engine-lamps 
flash  in  your  face,  and  warning  whistles  scream  in  your 
ears.  As  you  lie  at  night  you  hear  the  plug-plug  of  the 
goods  engine,  nearer  and  nearer  until  it  sounds  as  if  it  must 
be  walking  in  at  your  tent  door.  From  the  shops  at  Haifa 
the  untamed  Soudan  is  being  tamed  at  last.     It  is  the  new 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS     313 

system,  the  modem  system  —  mind  and  mechanics  beating 
muscle  and  shovel-head  spear." 

When  the  time  was  ripe  the  troops  marched  up 
the  Nile  to  Fort  Atbara  and  then  they  began  to  seek 
the  dervishes.  At  last  came  one  of  the  famous  night 
marches  which  figure  so  saliently  in  the  story  of  war- 
fare in  the  Soudan,  and  a  battle  next  morning.  "Hard 
gravel  underfoot,  full  moon  overhead,  about  them 
the  coy  horizon  that  seemed  immeasurable  yet  revealed 
nothing,  the  square  tramped  steadily  for  an  hour." 
After  a  rest  they  marched  again  from  one  to  four.  As 
the  sun  rose  the  word  came,  and  they  sprang  up, 
the  squares  shifted  into  the  fighting  formations. 
"At  one  impulse,  in  one  superb  sweep,  near  twelve 
thousand  men  moved  forward"  toward  the  enemy. 

A  nimbus  of  dust  rolled  from  the  zareba  of  the  enemy 
and  a  half-dozen  flags  fluttered  before  its  right  centre. 
Steevens  looked  at  his  watch  and  it  marked  6.20. 
The  battle  that  had  now  menaced  and  now  evaded 
them  for  a  month  had  begun.  The  bugles  sang  and 
the  pipes  screamed  and  the  line  started  forward  "like 
a  ruler  drawn  over  the  tussock-broken  sand."  As 
the  line  crested  the  ridge  the  men  knelt  down  and 
fired.  The  bugles  and  the  pipes  sounded  again  and 
the  men  were  up  and  on.  "The  line  of  khaki  and 
purple  tartan  never  bent  or  swerved."  It  moved 
down  the  gravelly  incline  always  without  hurry  amid 
furious  gusts  of  bullets.  They  stood  before  the  loose 
low  hedge  of  dry  camel  thorn  and  tugged  at  it  until 
they  made  a  gap,  when  they  found  a  low  stockade 
and  trenches  beyond. 

The  inside  suddenly  sprang  to  life.  "Out  of  the 
earth  came  dusty,  black,  half  naked  shapes,  running, 
running,  and  turning  to  shoot,  but  running  away." 


314     FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Inside  "was  the  most  astounding  labyrinth  ever  seen 
out  of  a  nightmare.'*  The  place  was  as  "full  of  holes 
as  any  honeycomb  only  far  less  regular."  There 
was  a  shelter  pit  for  every  animal;  donkeys  were 
tethered  down  in  holes,  just  big  enough  for  themselves 
and  their  masters,  a  trench  was  full  of  camels  and 
dead  or  dying  men.  There  was  no  plan  or  system. 
"From  holes  below  and  hillocks  above,  from  invisible 
trenches  to  right  and  left,  the  bewildered  bullets 
curved  and  twisted  and  dodged."  On  swept  "the 
whirlwind  of  Highlanders,  bullet  and  bayonet  and 
butt.""  They  penetrated  to  the  river  and  "across 
the  trickle  of  water  a  quarter  mile  of  dry  sand  bed 
was  a  fly-paper  with  scrambling  spots  of  black." 
"Cease  firing!"  was  sounded,  and  sudden  silence 
came  down.     The  battle  had  lasted  forty  minutes. 

A  few  months  later  Steevens  was  looking  at  Om- 
durman.  The  place  was  visible  at  last  to  an  advancing 
English  army;  the  battle  that  should  avenge  Gordon 
was  to  be  fought  and  the  last  and  greatest  day  of 
Mahdism  was  at  hand.  "We  saw  a  broad  plain,  half 
sand,  half  pale  grass,"  says  the  special.  "On  the  rim 
by  the  Nile  rose  a  pale  yellow  dome,  clear  above  every- 
thing. That  was  the  Mahdi's  tomb.  ...  It  was  the 
centre  of  a  purple  stain  on  the  yellow  sand,  going  out 
for  miles  and  miles  on  every  side  —  the  mud  houses 
of  Omdurman." 

Light  stole  quietly  into  the  sky  on  the  morning 
of  the  battle.  Everyone  was  very  silent  and  very 
curious.  "A  trooper  rose  out  of  the  stillness  from 
behind  the  shoulder  of  Gebel  Surgham,  grew  larger 
and  plamer,  spurred  violently  up  to  the  line  and 
inside.  A  couple  more  were  silhouetted  against  our 
front.     Then  the  electric  whisper  came  racing  down 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS     315 

the  line;  they  were  coming.  .  .  .  The  noise  of  some- 
thing began  to  creep  in  upon  us;  it  cleared  and  divided 
into  the  tap  of  drums  and  the  far  away  surf  of  raucous 
war  cries."  A  shiver  of  expectancy  thrilled  the  army. 
A  sigh  of  content  followed.  "They  were  coming  on. 
Allah  help  them!    They  were  coming  on." 

The  enemy  came  very  fast  and  straight  but  presently 
they  were  stopped.  The  British  were  standing  in 
double  ranks  behind  their  zareba.  The  blacks  were 
lying  in  their  shelter  trench,  and  for  a  time  "both 
poured  out  death  as  fast  as  they  could  load  and  pull 
trigger." 

Then  section  by  section  the  firing  was  hushed,  and 
for  a  while  there  was  nothing  "but  the  unbending, 
grimly  expectant  line  before  Agaiga  and  the  still  carpet 
of  white  in  front."  After  a  half-hour  the  bugles 
sounded.  The  one  disaster  of  the  battle  ensued.  The 
Twenty-first  Lancers,  eager  to  be  first  in  Omdurman, 
swung  into  their  charge. 

"Knee  to  knee  they  swept  on  till  they  were  but  two 
hundred  yards  from  the  enemy.  Then  suddenly  —  then 
in  a  flash  they  saw  the  trap.  Between  them  and  the  three 
hundred  there  yawned  suddenly  a  deep  ravine;  out  of  the 
ravine  there  sprang  instantly  a  cloud  of  black  heads,  and 
a  brandished  lightning  of  swords,  and  a  thunder  of  savage 
voices.  ...  It  had  succeeded.  Three  thousand  if  there 
was  one  to  four  hundred.  But  it  was  too  late  to  check  now. 
Must  go  through  with  it  now!  .  .  .  One  hundred  yards  — 
fifty  —  knee  to  knee.  .  .  .  Horses  plunged,  blundered, 
recovered,  fell;  dervishes  on  the  ground  lay  for  the  hamstring- 
ing cut;  officers  pistolled  them  in  passing  over  as  one  drops 
a  stone  into  a  bucket;  troopers  thrust  until  lances  broke, 
then  cut;  everybody  went  on  straight  through  everything. 
.  .  .  Clean  out  on  the  other  side  they  came  —  those  that 
kept  up  or  got  up  in  time.  The  others  were  on  the  ground  — 
in  pieces  by  now,  for  the  cruel  swords  shore  through  shoulder 


316      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and  thigh,  and  carved  the  dead  into  fillets.  Twenty-four 
of  these,  and  of  those  that  came  out,  over  fifty  had  felt  sword 
or  bullet  or  spear.  Few  horses  stayed  behind  among  the 
swords,  but  nearly  one  hundred  and  thirty  were  wounded." 

This  to  Steevens  was  hearsay.  The  rest  of  the 
battle  he  witnessed.  He  saw  MacDonald's  splendid 
courage  and  strategy,  commended  so  by  Bennet 
Burleigh,  when  he  "turned  his  front  through  a  com- 
plete half -circle,  facing  successively  south,  west  and 
north,"  his  brain  "working  as  if  packed  in  ice,"  and 
"every  tactician  in  the  army  delirious  in  his  praise." 
Still  the  honor  of  the  fight  was  awarded  by  the  corre- 
spondent to  the  men  who  died.  He  found  the  dervishes 
"beyond  perfection"  while  the  Sirdar's  army  was 
"perfection."  The  enemy  "died  worthily  of  the  huge 
empire  that  Mahdism  won  and  kept  so  long."  The 
spearmen  charged  hopelessly  over  and  over  again. 
"Their  riflemen,  mangled  by  every  kind  of  death  and 
torment  that  men  can  devise,  clung  round  the  black 
flag  and  the  green,  emptying  their  poor,  rotten,  home- 
made cartridges  dauntlessly." 

"Now  under  the  black  flag  in  a  ring  of  bodies  stood  only 
three  men,  facing  the  three  thousand  of  the  Third  Brigade. 
They  folded  their  arms  about  the  staff  and  gazed  steadily 
forward.  Two  fell.  The  last  dervish  stood  up  and  filled 
his  chest;  he  shouted  the  name  of  his  God  and  hurled  his 
spear.  Then  he  stood  quite  still,  waiting.  It  took  him 
full;  he  quivered,  gave  at  the  knees,  and  toppled  with  his 
head  on  his  arms  and  his  face  towards  the  legions  of  his 
conquerors." 

That  night  in  Omdurman,  Steevens  found  the  Sirdar 
flat  on  his  back,  dictating  by  the  light  of  a  solitary 
candle  his  despatch  to  the  chief  of  the  intelligence 
department.  Colonel  Wingate,  who  was  stretched 
flat  on  his  belly.     The  correspondent  himself  "scraped 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS     317 

a  scrawl  on  a  telegraph  form,  and  fell  asleep  on  the 
gravel  with  a  half -eaten  biscuit"  in  his  mouth. 

On  the  morning  of  October  10,  the  following  year, 
Steevens  awoke  to  find  his  ship  lying  beside  the  wharf 
at  Cape  Town.  He  headed  instantly  for  the  north  and 
the  war.  At  Elandslaagte  he  was  seen  walking  about 
close  to  the  firing  line  leading  his  grey  horse,  a  con- 
spicuous mark  for  a  sharpshooter.  There  were  as 
always  clever  descriptive  touches  in  the  letter  which 
he  forwarded  his  paper.  "For  half  an  hour  the  hillside 
was  ...  a  maze  of  men  wandering  they  knew  not 
whither,  crossing  and  recrossing,  circling,  stopping 
and  returning,  slipping  on  smooth  rock-faces,  breaking 
shins  on  rough  boulders,  treading  with  hobnailed  boots 
on  wounded  fingers."  Thus,  until  the  word  came 
that  the  hurt  men  were  to  be  brought  down  to  the 
Boer  camp  between  the  hills.  And  thus  of  the  treat- 
ment of  the  wounded  after  they  were  carried  down  in 
the  darkness: 

"In  the  rain-blurred  light  of  the  lantern  —  could  it 
not  cease,  that  piercing  drizzle  tonight  of  all  nights  at  least? — 
the  doctor,  the  one  doctor,  toiled  buoyantly  on.  Cutting 
up  their  clothes  with  scissors,  feeling  with  light  firm  fingers 
over  torn  chest  or  thigh,  cunningly  slipping  round  the  band- 
age, tenderly  covering  up  the  crimson  ruin  of  strong  men  — 
hour  by  hour,  man  by  man,  he  toiled  on." 

Soon  Steevens  was  shut  up  in  Lady  smith.  He 
endured  his  full  share  of  the  privations  and  perils  of 
the  siege  and  rendered  more  than  his  share  of  service 
in  keeping  up  the  hearts  of  his  fellows.  "Tack-tap, 
tack-tap,  as  if  the  devil  was  hammering  nails  into 
the  hills"  the  bombardment  went  on.  When  the 
firing  was  strongest  he  would  toil  up  a  ladder  of  boulders 
and  bend  and  steal  forward  to  the  sky-line  to  make 


S18      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

his  observations.  The  rains  came  in  level  down- 
pour and  transformed  Ladysmith  into  a  lake  of  mud. 
They  were  lying  in  the  bottom  of  a  saucer  and  staring 
up  at  the  pitiless  ring  of  hills  that  barked  death. 
Help  would  come,  that  was  sure,  but  would  it  be  in 
time?  And  how  soon  dared  they  expect  it?  They 
could  only  hazard  opinions.  By  means  of  native 
runners  the  correspondents  tried  to  get  messages  out 
of  the  beleaguered  town,  but  the  risks  of  sending 
through  the  lines  of  the  Boers  were  so  desperate  that 
the  prices  paid  were  "appalling."  For  his  first  runner 
Steevens  paid  £70. 

Through  the  weary  weeks  of  waiting  Steevens  smiled 
and  jested.  The  Ladysmith  Lyre  was  founded  for 
the  express  purpose  of  promoting  laughter,  and  for 
three  months  its  publication  was  hailed  as  an  event 
of  the  first  magnitude  in  that  little  world  which  was 
segregated  absolutely  from  the  big  world  beyond. 
Nothing  could  daunt  the  courage  or  curb  the  wit  of 
the  Daily  Mail  special  and  all  within  the  lines  laughed 
at  his  sallies  and  were  the  better  for  their  laughter. 
There  are  other  services  than  those  connected  most 
directly  with  the  profession  of  war  correspondence 
which  the  specials  of  the  newspapers  may  render 
and  often  have  rendered.  Meantime  the  winking 
heliograph  and  the  flashing  searchlight  brought  mes- 
sages in  cipher  to  headquarters  from  the  outside.  A 
few  days  before  Christmas  the  press  men  were. sum- 
moned to  hear  an  abridged  version  of  one  of  these 
messages.  They  were  to  adumbrate  the  ill  tidmgs 
which  somehow  had  been  whispered  about  the  town. 
Buller  had  sent  word  that  he  must  wait  for  siege  guns, 
which  meant  another  thirty  days  at  least  for  pent-up 
Ladysmith.     But  it  was    March  1  when  the  actual 


GEORGE  WARRINGTON  STEEVENS     319 

entry  was  made,  and  the  town  had  been  cut  off  from 
the  outer  world,  save  for  the  Kaffir  runners,  for  one 
himdred  and  nineteen  days. 

Weeks  before  the  relief  reached  the  town  Steevens 
was  stricken  with  the  scourge  of  Ladysmith,  enteric 
fever.  He  fought  for  his  life  and  was  declared  almost 
convalescent,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  relapse. 
A  fellow  correspondent  was  obliged  to  tell  him  the 
truth,  the  farewell  messages  were  dictated,  and  in 
three  hours  he  was  dead.  At  midnight,  "with  the 
Bulwaan  searchlight  shining  on  them  like  a  Cyclop's 
eye,"  the  little  company  of  correspondents  carried 
their  comrade  to  the  cemetery  outside  the  town,  and 
at  the  grave,  the  searchlight  having  left  them,  a  depu- 
tation from  headquarters,  a  group  of  officers,  and  the 
press  men  stood  in  darkness  and  rain  for  the  burial 
service. 

Thus  passed  a  war  correspondent  whose  press  work 
was  not  only  history  but  literature.  Shy,  quiet,  ur- 
bane, magnanimous,  kindly  humorous,  proud  as  well 
as  modest,  a  wit  and  a  cynic  at  times  but  not  given 
to  censure,  without  any  girding  up  of  his  mind  pouring 
out  droll  ideas,  striking  similitudes  and  quaint  expres- 
sions, this  man's  life  was  one  of  the  most  expensive 
counts  in  the  computation  of  the  costs  of  the  South 
African  War. 


\ 


CHAPTER  XI 
WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL 

*'  His  is  a  picturesque  career.  Of  any  man  of  his  few  years  speaking  our 
language,  probably  it  is  today  the  most  picturesque.  And  that  he  is  half 
an  American  gives  all  of  us  an  excuse  to  pretend  we  share  in  his  successes." 

— Richard  Harding  Davis  (1905). 

"  Englishman,  twenty-five  years  old,  about  five  feet  eight  inches  high, 
indifferent  build,  walks  a  little  with  a  bend  forward,  pale  appearance,  red- 
brownish  hair,  small  moustache  hardly  perceptible,  talks  through  his  nose, 
cannot  pronounce  the  letter  S  properly,  and  does  not  know  any  Dutch.'* 

— From  the  Transvaal  Government  Poster  after  the  escape  from  Pretoria^ 

"The  field-telegraph  stopped  at  the  bridge-head  and  a 
small  tent  with  a  half-dozen  military  operators  marked 
the  breaking  of  a  slender  thread  that  connected  us  across 
thousands  of  miles  of  sea  and  land  with  London.  Hence- 
forward a  line  of  signal  stations  with  their  flickering  helios 
would  be  the  only  links.     We  were  at  the  end  of  the  wire. 

"I  have  stood  at  the  other  end  and  watched  the  tape 
machine  click  off  the  news  as  it  arrives;  the  movements  of 
the  troops;  the  prospects  of  action;  the  fighting;  the  casual- 
ties. How  different  are  the  scenes.  The  club  on  an  autumn 
evening  —  its  members  grouped  anxiously  around,  dis- 
cussing, wondering,  asserting;  the  noise  of  traffic  outside; 
the  cigarette  smoke  and  electric  lights  within.  And,  only 
an  hour  away  along  the  wire,  the  field  with  the  bright  sun- 
light shining  on  the  swirling  muddy  waters;  the  black  for- 
bidding rocks;  the  white  tents  of  the  brigade  a  mile  up  the 
valley;  a  long  streak  of  vivid  green  rice  crop  by  the  river; 
and  in  the  foreground  the  brown-clad  armed  men. 

"I  can  never  doubt  which  is  the  right  end  to  be  at. 
It  is  better  to  be  making  the  news  than  taking  it;  to  be  an 
actor  rather  than  a  critic." 

Thus  years  ago  the  present  First  Lord  of  the  Ad- 
miralty recorded  his  conviction  in  that  model  piece 
of  war  reporting,  "The  Story  of  the  Malakand  Field 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL      321 

Force."  He  himself  had  begun  to  make  the  news 
two  or  three  years  before,  and  ever  since  he  has  been 
diligently  engaged  in  the  exciting  occupations  which 
managing  editors  cannot  afford  to  neglect.  In  those 
early  years  of  storm  and  stress  people  said  he  was  a 
young  man  in  a  hurry  who  would  come  a  cropper  right 
soon;  that  he  was  a  tornado,  an  arrogant  egoist,  an 
audacious  but  undeniably  brilliant  son  of  a  brilliant 
father. 

Winston  Churchill  is  indeed  the  son  of  Randolph 
Churchill.  He  has  done  a  lot  of  the  things  his  father 
did  and  done  them  in  the  fashion  which  his  father 
affected.  His  mannerisms  were  most  of  them  strongly 
reminiscent  of  his  father  when  he  came  before  the 
public  with  the  very  evident  intention  of  making  his 
way  to  the  front  of  the  stage  without  serving  any  pro- 
longed apprenticeship  in  the  wings  or  the  background. 
His  grandmother  used  to  refer  with  pride  to  the  fact 
that  his  father  had  been  paid  £2250  for  his  articles 
in  the' Daily  Graphic  on  South  African  affairs.  How 
it  would  have  delighted  the  lady  to  know  that  the  son 
of  her  favorite  son  had  been  sent  to  the  Boer_war  by 
Lord  Glenesk  as  the  best  man  available  for  the  service 
of  the  Morning  Post,  and  paid  what  Lord  Glenesk 
considered  the  best  man  to  be  worth. 

Born  in  1874,  Winston  Churchill  is^half  American, 
for  his  mother  was  Jennie  Jerome  of  New  York  City. 
Educated  for  the  army  and  seeing  little  chance  of 
having  a  hand  in  a  real  war  for  England,  he  ran  away 
to  Cuba  when  he  was  barely  twenty-one  and  fought 
for  the  Spaniards.  Thereupon  he  became  an  inter- 
national question  which  the  House  of  Commons 
had  to  consider,  and,  his  name  thus  early  before  the 
world,  the  Daily  Graphic  found  it  worth  while  to  pay 


Sn      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

him  handsome  fees  for  articles  on  the  Cuban  revolution, 
and  when  he  came  home  he  brought  with  him  the 
Spanish  government's  Order  of  Military  Merit.  In 
another  year  he  left  for  the  Indian  frontier  and  while 
attached  to  the  Malakand  Field  Force  he  sent  the 
Daily  Telegraph  a  series  of  brilliant  letters  and  won 
another  medal  and  a  mention  in  despatches.  Joining 
the  staff  of  Sir  William  Lockhart,  he  went  through 
the  Tirah  campaign  and  added  a  clasp  to  his  decoration. 

In  1897,  a  prophet  known  as  the  Mad  Fakir  arose 
upon  the  Indian  frontier,  whose  appeals  to  the  fanat- 
icism of  the  tribes  met  with  remarkable  responses. 
On  July  29,  all  India  rang  with  the  news  that  the  Mala- 
kand had  been  attacked,  and  the  tension  throughout 
the  land  became  fever  high  when  it  was  understood 
that  one  or  two  little  garrisons  away  in  the  mountains 
were  in  danger  of  annihilation. 

In  his  analysis  of  conditions  at  the  theatre  of  the 
war  Mr.  Churchill  relates  how  in  those  wild  but  wealthy 
valleys  "a  code  of  honour  not  less  punctilious  than 
that  of  Old  Spain  is  supported  by  vendettas  as  implac- 
able as  those  of  Corsica,"  and  how  the  fighting  men 
"to  the  ferocity  of  the  Zulu  added  the  craft  of  the 
redskin  and  the  marksmanship  of  the  Boer."  England 
held  the  Malakand  Pass  to  keep  open  the  road  to  Chit- 
ral.  The  younger  officers  of  the  Malakand  garrison 
were  playing  polo  at  Khar  when  some  neighboring 
tribesmen  brought  them  warning  that  a  wave  of 
fanaticism  was  sweeping  down  the  valley  and  they 
hurried  back  to  make  their  position  as  secure  as  possible. 
The  commander  sent  a  telegram  to  Mardan  ordering 
the  Guides  to  reenforce  the  garrison,  the  order  arriving 
at  8.30  in  the  evening,  and  just  five  hours  later  they 
began  their  famous  march.     For  six  days  and  nights 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL      323 

the  garrison  was  under  incessant  rifle  fire,  and  each 
night  cost  them  several  lives. 

Terrible  as  was  the  situation,  the  garrison  was 
assured  that  relief  was  on  the  way.  The  tremendous 
exertions  of  the  relieving  columns  is  indicated  by  the 
fact  that  in  one  company  of  Sikhs  twenty-one  men 
actually  died  on  the  road  from  heat  apoplexy.  Past 
midnight  on  the  night  of  the  twenty-ninth  the  great 
attack  was  made  and  with  its  repulse  passed  the  chance 
of  capturing  the  Malakand.  The  tribesmen  there- 
upon concentrated  their  assault  upon  Chakdara,  and 
for  days  the  post  was  encircled  by  the  smoke  of  thou- 
sands of  muskets.  The  Malakand  Field  Force  was  sent 
to  hold  the  Malakand  and  "to  operate  against  the 
neighboring  tribes  as  might  be  required."  The  com- 
mand was  put  into  the  hands  of  General  Sir  Bindon 
Blood,  and  with  him  Winston  Churchill  "had  the 
honor  to  serve  in  the  field." 

The  young  adventurer  says:  "Having  realized 
that  if  a  British  cavalry  officer  waits  till  he  is  ordered 
on  active  service  he  is  likely  to  wait  a  considerable 
time,  I  obtained  six  weeks  leave  of  absence  from  my 
regiment,  and  on  September  2,  arrived  at  Malakand 
as  press  correspondent  of  the  Pioneer  and  Daily  Tele- 
graphy  and  in  the  hope  of  sooner  or  later  being  attached 
to  the  force  in  a  military  capacity." 

The  march  of  September  6  began  with  the  stars 
still  shining  overhead.  They  passed  a  frail  bridge 
hung  upon  wire  ropes  and  with  gates  at  each  end 
supported  by  little  mud  towers.  Here  the  field  tele- 
graph ended  and  of  the  contrast  between  the  two  ends 
of  the  wire  the  correspondent  wrote_the  vigori 
paragraphs  whick  Jiave^  been  quoted  above.  The 
horses  had  to  be  led  in  single  file  over  this  bridge,  and 


324      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

at  that  the  swinging  of  the  structure  made  it  hard  to 
walk.  The  passage  of  the  transport  under  such  cir- 
cumstances consumed  an  entire  day.  With  Major 
Deane,  Churchill  visited  the  chiefs  of  a  typical  Afghan 
valley,  with  seven  separate  castles  as  strongholds  of 
seven  separate  khans.  He  made  the  hard  climb  to 
the  top  of  the  pass,  and  stood  far  above  "a  valley  upon 
which  perhaps  no  white  man  had  looked  since  Alex- 
ander crossed  the  mountains  on  his  way  to  India." 
Of  the  camp  at  midnight  he  painted  an  engaging  picture: 

"The  fires  have  sunk  to  red,  glowing  specks.  The 
bayonets  glisten  in  a  regular  line  of  blue-white  points.  The 
silence  of  weariness  is  broken  by  the  incessant  and  uneasy 
shuffling  of  the  animals  and  the  occasional  neighing  of  the 
horses.  All  the  valley  is  plunged  in  gloom  and  the  moun- 
tains rise  high  and  black  around.  Far  up  their  sides,  the 
twinkling  watch-fires  of  the  tribesmen  can  be  seen.  Over- 
head is  the  starry  sky,  bathed  in  the  pale  radiance  of  the 
moon.  It  is  a  spectacle  that  may  inspire  the  philosopher 
not  less  than  the  artist.  All  the  camp  is  full  of  subdued 
noises.  Here  is  no  place  for  reflection,  for  quiet  or  solemn 
thought.  The  day  may  have  been  an  exciting  one.  The 
morrow  may  bring  an  action.  Some  may  be  killed,  but  in 
war  time  life  is  only  lived  in  the  present.  It  is  sufficient 
to  be  tried  and  to  have  time  to  rest,  and  the  camp,  if  all 
the  various  items  that  compose  it  can  be  said  to  have  a 
personality,  shrugs  its  shoulders  and,  regarding  the  past 
without  regret,  contemplates  the  future  without  alarm." 

The  climax  came  in  the  action  of  September  16. 
"Sniping"  had  been  going  on  all  the  time,  especially 
at  night,  and  occasionally  the  sharpshooters  picked 
off  a  man,  but  the  final  affair,  appealing  strongly  to 
the  imagination  of  such  a  man  as  Winston  Churchill, 
and  especially  at  his  age,  would  not  be  called  a  battle 
by  any  who  think  of  great  masses  of  troops  and  the 
thunder  of  batteries.     Just  a  hillside  on  which  a  few 


WINSTON    SPENCER   CHUIU  HILL 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL      325 

men  in  brown  might  be  made  out  by  a  careful  watcher 
moving  slowly  among  the  rocks,  and  looking  like  the 
tiny  figures  of  a  child's  play-house  in  that  great  sweep 
of  mountain  and  valley.  The  columns  marched  out 
of  camp  at  dawn,  three  in  all,  in  order  to  clear  the  whole 
mountain  trough  at  once;  Churchill  was  with  the  centre 
column.  He  watched  the  little  men  scurrying  about 
on  the  heights  and  the  tiny  curls  of  smoke.  Darkness 
came  down  swiftly  and  with  it  a  heavy  storm,  the 
lightning  flashes  providing  the  enemy  with  countless 
chances  to  aim  their  shots.  The  troops  worked  their 
way  back  to  camp,  and,  dinnerless  and  shelterless, 
lay  down  in  the  slush,  fagged  out  but  confident  of  the 
outcome.  There  had  been  barely  a  thousand  men 
engaged,  but  the  total  casualties  were  one  hundred 
and  forty-nine,  a  greater  percentage  than  in  most 
actions  in  India.  In  the  following  days  the  force  com- 
pleted the  conquest  of  the  valley  and  the  tribesmen 
were  ready  to  sue  for  peace. 

Meantime  the  correspondent  had  been  sending 
his  messages  back  by  friendly  tribesmen  to  the  tele- 
graph office  at  Panjkora.  The  way  lay  through  twenty 
miles  of  the  enemy's  country,  but  the  despatches  never 
miscarried  and  several  times  they  were  on  the  wire 
before  the  official  despatches  or  any  heliographed 
messages  had  come  through. 

His  work  done,  he  made  his  way  back  to  the  comforts 
of  civilization  and  of  peace.  At  each  stage  of  the 
return  journey  some  of  the  "indispensable  things" 
of  modern  society  appeared.  At  Panjkora  he  was  in 
touch  with  the  great  world  again  by  means  of  the 
electric  current,  at  Saria  there  were  fresh  potatoes, 
at  Chakdara  there  was  ice,  at  Malakand  he  had  again 
a  comfortable  bed,  and  at  Howshera  there  was  the 


326      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

railway.  One  of  the  most  picturesque  of  the  little 
wars  of  the  century  was  finished,  and  it  had  brought 
to  the  young  newspaper  man  praise  from  Sir  Bindon 
Blood  for  his  "courage  and  resolution"  in  making 
himself  "useful  at  a  critical  moment." 

His  book  written,  and  it  being  clear  that  Kitchener 
was  about  to  advance  upon  Khartoum,  Winston  Chur- 
chill hurried  to  the  War  Office,  as  several  hundred 
other  officers  had  done,  to  ask  for  employment.  Per- 
severance secured  it  for  him  and  he  was  attached  for 
the  campaign  to  the  Twenty-first  Lancers  and  ordered 
without  delay  to  proceed  to  the  Nile.  At  Cairo  he 
found  his  squadron  leaving  the  next  day.  All  the 
way  up  the  river  he  was  doing  his  stint  of  work  with 
his  troop  and  sending  his  letters  to  his  paper,  the 
Morning  Post,  One  adventure  in  the  desert  threatened 
to  end  seriously.  Every  correspondent  who  sees 
service  in  Egypt  expects  to  be  lost  in  the  desert  once 
at  least,  and  Churchill  had  to  take  his  turn  of  wander- 
ing at  night  among  the  sandhills,  with  scouting  parties 
of  the  enemy  at  no  great  distance. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  save  the  cavalry  horses 
and  keep  them  in  condition  for  the  fighting  that  was 
ahead.  Extreme  precautions  were  taken  to  maintain 
the  war  order  and  to  make  the  march  easy  for  the 
crippled  animals.  Of  one  motley  troop  Churchill 
was  made  commander. 

So  he  fared  on  to  the  great  battle  of  Omdurman. 
The  Lancers  that  day  made  their  first  charge  in  war, 
land  Churchill,  who  rode  with  the  rest,  has  written  a 
khrilling  story  of  that  episode  of  the  great  struggle 
Which  cleared  the  Soudan  of  the  rule  of  fanaticism. 
How  luck  followed  this  young  man!  He  had  his 
share    in    the   charge   which,    with    the    exploit    of 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL      327 

MacDonald,  was  the  event  of  the  battle  that  ended 
Mahdism.  There  were  just  two  minutes  of  slashing, 
spear  throwing,  hamstringing,  rifle  firing  with  muzzles 
against  the  bodies  of  the  foe,  and  sabre  cutting.  And 
he  came  through  as  one  of  the  few  oflScers  whose 
saddlery,  clothes  and  horse  were  quite  untouched. 
He  wrote:  "The  whole  scene  flickered  exactly  like  a 
cinematograph  picture,  and  besides  I  remember  no 
sound.  The  event  seemed  to  pass  in  absolute  silence. 
.  .  .  Perhaps  it  is  possible  for  the  whole  of  a  man's 
faculties  to  be  concentrated  in  the  eye,  bridle-hand 
and  trigger-finger,  and  withdrawn  from  all  other  parts 
of  the  body." 

Home  again,  he  wrote  "The  River  War,"  telling 
the  story  of  the  Nile  campaigns  from  the  death  of 
Gordon  to  the  final  winning  of  the  Soudan.  Again 
his  book  made  a  sensation,  for  it  was  the  work  of  a 
subaltern  who  had  been  in  the  desert  but  a  few  months 
and  it  read  like  the  work  of  a  veteran  of  many  wars 
and  a  student  of  military  history.  It  is  the  standard 
work  upon  its  subject,  and  it  got  abundant  attention 
also  because  of  the  free  and  easy  way  in  which  its 
writer  criticized  all  the  military  gods  from  Eatchener 
down.  Plunging  into  politics  and  failing  to  gain  a 
seat  in  the  House,  he  resigned  from  his  regiment,  and 
on  October  26,  1899,  left  for  the  South  African  war 
again  as  correspondent  for  the  Morning  Post.  Later 
he  held  a  commission  in  the  South  African  Light  Horse 
and  served  as  an  aide  to  two  or  three  generals. 

The  affair  of  the  armored  train  occurred  within  a 
few  days  of  his  arrival.  The  train  was  composed  of 
three  flat  cars,  two  armored  cars,  and  between  them 
the  engine;  thus  there  were  three  cars  coupled  to  the 
cow-catcher  and  two  to  the  tender.     After  the  train 


328      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

had  passed,  the  Boers  rolled  a  big  boulder  on  the  track 
just  where  it  rounded  a  curve.  On  the  return  trip 
the  engineer  took  the  curve  at  high  speed  and  hit 
the  rock,  with  the  result  that  the  three  forward  cars 
were  thrown  off  the  track  and  one  was  landed  crosswise 
so  that  the  engine  and  rear  cars  could  not  escape. 

The  Boers  were  firing  upon  them  from  three  sides 
and  they  had  some  field  guns  in  action  so  that  any 
direct  shell  would  pierce  the  armored  cars  like  paper. 
Churchill  dropped  to  the  ground  and  ran  forward, 
returning  to  report  his  conviction  that  the  track  could 
be  cleared.  It  was  agreed  that  Captain  Haldane  should 
keep  the  enemy  engaged  while  Churchill  tried  to  clear 
away  the  wreckage.  By  hard  work  and  ingenuity 
he  got  the  cars  out  of  the  way.  Then  it  was  found 
that  the  engine  was  six  inches  wider  than  the  tender 
and  that  the  corner  of  its  foot-plate  would  not  pass 
the  corner  of  the  truck  which  had  just  been  shoved 
from  the  track.  Pushing  made  the  jam  worse  and 
the  men  worked  at  the  freight  car  with  their  bare 
hands  while  the  Boer  fire  was  renewed  at  a  distance 
of  thirteen  hundred  yards.     Said  the  correspondent: 

"I  have  had  in  the  last  four  years  many  strange  and 
thrilling  experiences.  But  nothing  was  so  thrilling  as  this: 
to  wait  and  struggle  among  these  clanging,  rending  iron 
boxes,  with  the  repeated  explosions  of  the  shells  and  the 
artillery,  the  noise  of  the  projectiles  striking  the  cars,  the 
hiss  as  they  passed  in  the  air,  the  grunting  and  puffing  of 
the  engine  —  poor,  tortured  thing,  hammered  by  at  least 
a  dozen  shells,  any  one  of  which  by  penetrating  the  boiler 
might  have  made  an  end  of  all  —  the  expectation  of  de- 
struction as  a  matter  of  course,  the  realization  of  power- 
lessness  and  the  alternations  of  hope  and  despair  —  all  this 
for  seventy  minutes  by  the  clock  with  only  four  inches  of 
twisted  iron  work  to  make  the  difference  between  danger. 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL       329 

captivity  and  shame  on  the  one  hand  —  safety,  freedom 
and  triumph  on  the  other.'* 

At  last  the  engine  did  break  past  the  obstruction. 
But  the  couplings  had  parted  and  they  dared  not  risk 
imprisoning  the  engine  again  by  backing  it  to  the  rear 
trucks.  They  could  not  drag  the  trucks  to  the  engine, 
however,  and  it  was  decided  to  try  to  save  the  engine 
alone.  The  cab,  tender  and  cow-catcher  were  piled 
with  their  wounded.  The  woodwork  of  the  firebox 
was  in  flames  and  water  was  spouting  from  the  pierced 
tanks.  As  the  engine  moved  away  the  soldiers  strag- 
gled alongside  at  the  double.  But  one  private,  with- 
out authority,  raised  his  handkerchief,  when  the  Boers 
ceased  firing  at  once  and  a  dozen  horsemen  came 
galloping  from  the  hills. 

Churchill  stayed  on  the  engine  in  safety  for  a  third 
of  a  mile,  when  he  saw  an  officer  trying  to  hold 
his  stampeding  men,  and,  under  the  shelter  of  some 
houses,  he  dropped  from  the  engine,  and  ran  back  to 
help.  He  soon  found  himself  in  a  narrow  cutting  and 
alone,  for  the  soldiers  had  surrendered.  As  two  men 
appeared  at  the  end  of  what  was  a  sort  of  corridor 
he  began  to  run.  Two  bullets  passed  within  a  foot 
of  his  head;  he  zigzagged,  and  two  more  came  as  near. 
He  scrambled  up  the  side  of  the  cutting  and  a  bullet 
hit  his  hand.  Outside  he  crouched  in  a  little  depres- 
sion, but  a  horseman  was  galloping  towards  him,  and 
he  had  neither  rifle  nor  pistol.  He  says:  "Death 
stood  before  me,  grim  and  sullen.  Death  without  his 
light-hearted  companion,  Chance."  There  was  nothing 
else  for  it.    He  surrendered. 

His  certificate  as  a  correspondent  bore  his  name. 
It  was  a  name  not  liked  in  the  Transvaal.  One  Boer 
asked:  **  You  are  the  son  of  Lord  Randolph  Churchill?'* 


330      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

He  did  not  deny  the  fact,  and  immediately  he  was 
encircled  by  a  crowd  of  staring  Boers. 

He  was  taken  to  Pretoria  and  imprisoned  in  the 
States  Model  Schools  Building,  which  was  surrounded 
by  iron  railings,  and  there  were  guards  quartered  in 
tents  on  the  playground.  There  were  long,  dull  days, 
lightened  by  the  reading  of  Carlyle  and  Mill's  "Essay 
on  Liberty."  Liberty  he  was  bound  to  have,  and  he 
began  to  make  his  plans  on  the  day  of  his  arrival. 
After  ten  days  the  American  consul  came  to  see  him. 
His  friends  did  not  know  whether  he  was  alive, 
wounded  or  dead.  Mr.  Bourke  Cockran,  an  old  friend 
of  his  American  mother's,  cabled  from  New  York  to 
the  consul,  and  in  this  roundabout  way  his  situation 
was  disclosed  to  his  relatives  and  comrades. 

He  found  it  advisable  to  lose  his  campaign  hat, 
which  could  not  be  mistaken  for  the  headgear  of  any 
but  an  English  officer.  The  burgher  who  bought 
him  another  very  innocently  but  very  fortunately 
returned  with  a  Boer  sombrero.  Then  he  kept  watch 
and  devised  schemes.  The  grounds  were  brilliantly 
lighted  with  electric  lights,  tut  there  was  a  little 
period  of  a  few  minutes  when  the  sentries  as  they  paced 
their  beats  would  have  a  small  section  of  the  wall  in 
darkness,  owing  to  some  cross-shadows.  Beyond 
was  a  private  house  with  its  grounds,  and  farther 
on  the  open  street. 

Just  how  he  was  to  dodge  patrols  and  find  his  way 
through  three  hundred  miles  of  unknown  and  hostile 
territory  he  did  not  know.  But  the  effort  he  was 
bound  to  make.    He  says: 

"Tuesday,  December  12!  Anything  was  better  than 
further  suspense.  Again  night  came.  Again  the  dinner 
bell  sounded.     Choosing  my  opportunity,  I  strolled  across 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL      331 

the  quadrangle  and  secreted  myself  in  one  of  the  offices. 
Through  a  chink  I  watched  the  sentries.  For  half  an  hour 
they  remained  stolid  and  obstructive.  Then  suddenly  one 
turned  and  walked  up  to  his  comrade  and  they  began  to 
talk.  Their  backs  were  turned.  I  darted  out  of  my  hiding 
place,  seized  the  top  with  my  hands  and  drew  myself  up. 
Twice  I  let  myself  down  again  in  sickly  hesitation,  and  then 
with  a  third  resolve  scrambled  up.  The  top  was  flat. 
Lying  on  it,  I  had  one  parting  glimpse  of  the  sentries,  still 
talking,  still  with  their  backs  turned,  but  fifteen  yards 
away.  Then  I  lowered  myself  silently  down  into  the  ad- 
joining garden  and  crouched  among  the  shrubs.  I  was  free. 
The  first  step  had  been  taken  and  was  irrevocable." 

He  was  in  the  garden  of  a  house  in  which  a  party 
was  going  on,  and  while  he  waited  in  the  shadows  guests 
came  out  and  stood  and  chatted  within  a  few  yards 
of  him.  After  a  time  he  passed  the  open  windows 
of  the  house,  walked  by  within  five  yards  of  a  sentry, 
and  was  at  large  in  Pretoria.  In  his  pocket  he  had 
four  slabs  of  chocolate  and  seventy-five  pounds  in 
money.  Overhead  was  Orion,  which  had  guided  him 
a  year  before  on  the  Nile.  He  was  going  to  give  the 
Boers  a  run  for  their  money  whatever  might  happen. 

The  fugitive  followed  the  railway  track,  making 
detours  to  avoid  the  watches  at  the  bridges,  and 
finally  boarded  a  train  in  motion.  **I  hurled  myself 
on  the  trucks,"  he  says,  "clutched  at  something, 
missed,  clutched  again,  missed  again,  grasped  some 
sort  of  hand-hold,  was  swung  off  my  feet,  my  toes 
bumping  on  the  line,  and  with  a  struggle  seated  myself 
on  the  couplings  of  the  fifth  truck  from  the  front  of 
the  train."  He  did  not  know  what  was  the  destina- 
tion of  the  train,  but  the  great  thing  was  that  it  wa=i 
going  away  from  Pretoria.  The  trucks  were  full  of 
sacks  of  goods  and  he  crawled  up  and  burrowed  among 


332      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

them.  Before  he  left  the  eai  at  dawn  he  saw  the  line 
was  running  straight  toward  the  sunrise  where  lay  the 
neutral  territory  of  Portugal.  That  day  he  ate  a  slab 
of  chocolate,  drank  from  a  pool,  and  stayed  hidden 
among  the  hills. 

The  following  night  he  walked,  creeping  along  close 
to  the  ground,  and  wading  bogs,  drenched  to  the  waist. 
The  fifth  day  he  was  beyond  Middleburg.  From  the 
Kaffirs  he  managed  to  beg  a  bit  of  food. 

Meantime  the  whole  world  was  talking  about  the 
audacious  escape  of  the  irrepressible  young  Enghsh- 
man.  The  Boers  were  furious.  The  one  man  who 
should  have  been  held  at  all  odds  was  the  man  who 
got  away  from  them.  They  telegraphed  throughout 
the  region  the  unflattering  description  which  has 
been  placed  at  the  head  of  this  chapter;  they  began 
to  search  every  car  of  every  train;  three  thousand 
photographs  were  distributed;  they  searched  the  houses 
of  all  supposed  British  sympathizers.  Especially  at 
the  frontier  of  Portuguese  territory  was  vigilant  watch 
kept.  Rumors  of  many  sorts  were  flying  about  the 
country.  Churchill  was  disguised  as  a  woman;  he 
was  wearing  the  uniform  of  a  Transvaal  policeman; 
he  was  in  Pretoria  disguised  as  a  waiter.  The  dangers 
of  inflammatory  literature  were  pointed  out  —  had 
he  not  been  reading  "Mill  on  Liberty"  the  day  before 
his  escape?  In  England  he  at  once  became  a  popular 
hero;  he  had  pluck  and  he  had  wit  and  he  had  con- 
founded the  Boers,  and  forthwith  every  Englishman 
cheered  him.  Then  as  day  followed  day  without 
tidings  of  him,  England  became  anxious.  Was  he  lost? 
Had  starvation  caught  him? 

He  was  indeed  in  straits.  Entirely  spent,  the 
little  strength  which  prison  life  had  left  him  exhausted, 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL      338 

he  had  to  crawl  to  a  shack  in  a  little  village  and  stam- 
mer out  a  speech  thought  out  in  advance  to  the  first 
white  man  he  had  dared  to  approach  for  weeks.  The 
man  stared,  and  then  he  glared,  and  finally  he  grabbed 
the  fugitive,  pulled  him  inside  the  door,  and  said: 
"I  am  the  only  Englishman  in  miles  and  you  are 
Winston  Churchill."  How  did  Churchill  know.?  He 
didn't  know;  luck  was  with  him.  He  seemed  to  move 
under  the  same  star  that  so  many  times  befriended 
Forbes,  valiant  but  ever  favored  by  chance. 

His  new  friend  smuggled  him  into  a  freight  car, 
where,  buried  in  sacks  of  merchandise,  he  stayed  for 
more  than  two  days.  At  the  border  the  car  was  twice 
searched,  but  only  the  upper  sacks  were  lifted,  and 
after  many  hours  of  waiting  the  empty  roar  of  the 
bridge  told  the  young  correspondent  that  he  was 
entering  Portuguese  territory  at  last.  He  only  left 
the  car  when  he  reached  Lourenco  Marques.  Then 
he  hurried  to  the  British  consul,  and  that  night,  taking 
no  chances,  he  was  escorted  to  a  steamship  about  to 
leave  by  a  dozen  Englishmen  with  drawn  revolvers. 

Two  days  later  he  was  landed  at  Durban,  where 
a  rousing  welcome  was  his.  It  was  the  second. day 
before  Christmas,  but  after  only  an  hour  of  enthusiasm 
and  turmoil  which  he  says  he  "enjoyed  extremely," 
he  was  off  for  the  front,  with  a  months'  newspapers 
at  his  side  to  catch  up  with  the  news  of  the  world. 
Back  at  Frere,  he  found  his  tent  pitched  by  the  side  of 
the  very  cutting  down  which  he  had  fled  from  the  Boer 
marksmen. 

For  the  rest,  he  stayed  with  Buller  as  an  oflficer  and 
a  correspondent  until  the  relief  of  Ladysmith,  and 
then  he  was  with  one  of  the  columns  of  Lord  Roberts 
until  Pretoria  was  taken.     He  watched  the  search- 


334      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

light  flashing  the  Morse  code  on  the  clouds,  and  saw 
its  aerial  battle  with  the  Boer  searchlight,  which 
crossed  its  flashes  with  blinks  and  flickers  and  mixed 
up  the  dots  and  dashes.  As  the  Monte  Cristo  ridge 
was  captured  he  wired  his  paper  that  at  last  success 
was  within  reach.  He  was  one  of  the  first  party  that 
galloped  into  the  relieved  town,  and  how  the  tattered 
and  weary  men  ran  and  cheered  and  cried  when  they 
heard  his  reply  to  the  sentry's  challenge  —  "  The 
Lady  smith  Relief  Column." 

There  was  one  lull  after  the  relief  of  Ladysmith 
when  Churchill  went  back  to  Capetown,  and  then  an 
adventure  befell  him  when  he  was  out  with  a  scouting 
party.  That  day  again  he  ran  for  his  life  from  Boer 
marksmen,  and  a  trooper  saved  him  by  mounting  him 
behind  himself.  Said  the  adventurer:  "I  had  thrown 
double  sixes  again."  At  a  time  when  near  Johannes- 
burg an  important  action  was  fought,  which  the  corre- 
spondents were  not  able  to  wire  away  because  the 
enemy  lay  between  the  force  and  the  telegraph,  he 
conceived  the  idea  of  taking  the  most  direct  way  to 
headquarters,  which  was  the  way  through  Johannes- 
burg. He  went  on  a  bicycle  with  a  Frenchman  as 
comrade  and  got  safely  through.  In  the  darkness 
they  walked  and  scrambled  and  cycled,  keeping  to  the 
side  streets  in  the  town  which  the  army  had  not  yet 
occupied.  They  overtook  the  principal  special  of 
The  Times,  Lionel  James,  who  chivalrously  refused 
to  hear  the  tidings  Churchill  brought;  let  his  rival 
keep  his  news  and  score  as  he  deserved  to  do.  They 
were  carrying  also  official  reports  for  the  Commander- 
in-Chief,  and  straight  to  Lord  Roberts  they  made 
their  way.  Churchill  put  his  news  on  the  wire  and 
was  provided  with  his  first  comfortable  bed  for  a  month. 


WINSTON  SPENCER  CHURCHILL      335 

A  few  months  later  he  took  his  seat  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  by  a  happy  coincidence  he  entered 
upon  his  Parliamentary  career  at  the  same  age  as  had 
his  father.  His  first  speech  was  made  in  May,  1901; 
after  some  years  he  went  over  to  the  Liberal  Party; 
soon  he  was  Under-Secretary  for  the  Colonies;  and  now 
he  is  in  the  Cabinet,  sharing  the  tremendous  responsi- 
bility of  the  direction  of  the  forces  of  Great  Britain 
in  what  seems  likely  to  become  the  greatest  war  the 
world  has  ever  known.  But  whatever  he  is  and  what- 
ever he  may  become,  it  is  certain  that  this  man  of 
versatility  and  industry,  with  his  passion  for  being  in 
the  midst  of  things,  will  never  enjoy  life  more  than 
did  he  when  he  was  winning  the  attention  of  the 
world  as  a  newspaper  special  and  a  soldier. 


CHAPTER  XII 
JAMES  CREELMAN 

"  Creelman  is  made  of  the  clay  from  which  spring  crusaders,  reformers 
and  martyrs." 

— Valerian  Gribayedqff. 

James  Creelman,  whose  name  is  familiar  to  news- 
paper readers  in  most  English-speaking  countries  as  a 
past  master  in  the  art  of  interviewing  and  an  accom- 
plished all-round  journalist,  has  given  a  decade  of  his 
life  to  the  following  of  the  warpath. 

The  war  between  China  and  Japan  was  the  first 
to  which  he  went  as  a  correspondent,  and  it  abounded 
in  picturesque  incidents,  to  all  of  which  the  graphic 
style  of  the  special  did  full  justice.  He  witnessed 
the  storming  of  Ping- Yang  by  the  Japanese  troops, 
and  scored  again  after  the  battle  of  the  Yalu,  the  first 
naval  struggle  in  which  modern  battleships  were 
tested.  The  account  of  the  first  was  written  by  the 
light  of  a  cracked  lantern  which  was  hung  on  an  arrow 
fastened  in  the  ground,  where,  on  the  outmost  ramparts 
of  the  city,  he  had  betaken  himself  to  escape  the  roar 
and  confusion  of  the  tremendous  celebration  of  the 
victory,  which  was  at  its  height.  The  ancient  city 
of  Ping- Yang,  a  thousand  years  before  the  strongest 
on  the  continent,  sprawled  down  to  the  edge  of  the 
river,  "its  crooked  streets  ascending  gradually  and 
ending  in  steep  precipices,  crested  with  castellated 
stone  walls,  overlooking  the  valley."  Outside  these 
walls  the  industrious  Chinese  defenders  had  constructed 
in  six  weeks  more  than  thirty  earthworks,  with  walls 
fifteen  feet  high,  making  miles  of  new  fortifications. 


JAMES  CREELMAN  337 

so  that  it  was  hard  for  the  observer  to  understand  how 
troops  which  had  the  energy  to  perform  such  a  marvel 
of  building  yet  were  driven  from  their  stronghold  by 
a  force  which  did  not  exceed  10,000  men. 

That  was  the  war  of  the  mediaeval  and  the  modem 
with  all  the  dramatic  contrasts  that  are  dear  to  the 
heart  of  the  descriptive  reporter.  "  The  Chinese 
commanders,"  says  Creelman,  "with  huge  spectacles, 
heroes  of  many  a  classical  debate,  and  surrounded 
by  the  painted,  embroidered,  and  carved  monsters 
of  mythological  war,  but  wholly  ignorant  of  modem 
mihtary  science,  awaited  the  coming  of  the  trim  Httle 
up-to-date  soldiers  of  Japan  with  all  the  scorn  of  learned 
foolishness." 

As  night  descended  upon  the  armies  the  Chinese 
advanced,  sending  on  ahead  a  cow  and  a  band  of  trum- 
peters, which  was  the  correct  move  according  to  the 
ancient  authorities;  but  this  Mongolian  skirmishing 
scheme  did  not  prove  of  value.  The  Japanese  waited 
in  silence  until  the  enemy  were  within  three  hundred 
feet,  then  they  fired  volley  after  volley,  the  skirmish 
column  turned  and  fled,  and  Oshima's  cavalry  thun- 
dered at  their  heels.  Before  the  night  was  over  the 
Japanese  forces  were  so  arranged  that  the  city  was 
practically  surrounded.  Inside  the  walls  the  drums 
were  throbbing  and  the  dancing  girls  were  swaying; 
outside  the  couriers  of  the  Japanese  troops  were  stealing 
quietly  from  camp  to  camp.  In  the  stillness  of  the 
second  hour  before  the  dawn,  without  the  beating 
of  any  drums  or  the  blaring  of  any  trumpets,  the 
Japanese  columns  made  their  dash,  but  as  they  came 
up  the  steep  ascent  the  Chinese  boldly  swarmed  down 
to  meet  them,  only  to  be  driven  back  a  foot  at  a  time. 
At   break   of   day,    several   companies   of    Japanese 


338      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

infantry  made  a  bayonet  charge  right  lip  the  hill  and 
in  the  face  of  the  fire  of  more  than  five  hundred  re- 
peating rifles.  Before  the  glittering  lines  of  bayonets, 
nevertheless,  the  Chinese  gave  way  in  disorder,  finally 
fleeing  behind  the  walls  of  an  inner  fortification. 

Early  that  morning  the  siege  batteries  commenced 
cannonading.  Through  the  smoke  which  half  hid 
the  city  gleamed  the  crimson  and  yellow  banners  of 
the  defenders.  Rain  began  to  fall  heavily,  where- 
upon, to  the  amazement  of  the  attacking  forces,  the 
Chinese  planted  huge  oiled  paper  umbrellas  on  the 
walls  of  their  forts  to  keep  them  dry  while  they  fought. 
"  In  every  direction  Chinese  umbrellas  could  be  seen, 
glistening  like  turtles  on  the  earthworks."  At  last  came 
the  most  splendid  spectacle  of  that  curious  battle, 
a  body  of  about  three  hundred  Manchurian  cavalry, 
mounted  on  snow-white  horses,  moved  out,  galloped 
along  a  road  skirting  one  of  the  city  walls,  and  then 
suddenly  wheeled  and  charged  down  the  valley, 
"where  Nozu's  troops  were  stretched  across  from  hill 
to  hill  between  his  batteries."  In  his  stirring  de- 
scription of  that  scene  Creelman  tells  how  the  horsemen 
thundered  into  the  valley  "  with  their  long  black  lances 
set  and  pennons  dancing  from  shining  spear-points," 
how  "not  a  man  stirred  in  the  Japanese  line  as  the 
Manchurians  swept  down  on  the  centre,  prepared  to 
cut  their  way  through  and  escape,"  and  how  "within 
two  hundred  feet  the  Japanese  infantry  and  artillery 
opened  and  horses  and  riders  went  down  together 
and  were  hurled  in  bloody  heaps."  But  forty  of  the 
riders  made  their  way  through  the  line  and  these  were 
stopped  presently  by  a  reserve  company  in  the  rear. 
The  smoke  was  so  dense  that  another  company  of 
three  hundred  similarly  mounted  also  rode  out  and 


JAMES   CREELMAN 


JAMES  CREELMAN  339 

charged  down  the  valley,  not  knowing  the  fate  of  their 
fellows.  Nor  did  a  man  of  them  escape.  And  a  third 
company,  numbering  only  one  hundred,  galloped  out 
to  utter  annihilation. 

Through  many  hours  the  rain  fell  while  the  defend- 
ers of  the  walls  were  huddled  under  their  umbrellas 
and  blazing  away  at  nothing  with  steady  persistency. 
Storming  parties  of  the  Japanese  were  taking  the 
outer  forts  one  at  a  time.  At  four  in  the  afternoon 
the  Chinese  hoisted  a  white  flag  and  protested  to  a 
party  of  Japanese  officers  who  came  forward  that 
it  was  impossible  for  them  to  surrender  in  the  rain. 
For  a  while  there  was  comparative  quiet,  then  the 
assailants  resumed  the  fighting  as  they  discovered 
that  Chinese  troops  were  being  moved  about  upon 
the  walls.  Far  into  the  night  the  battle  continued; 
the  Chinese  forced  the  Coreans  into  the  fighting  by 
flogging  them  with  whips;  flights  of  Corean  arrows 
winged  their  course  through  the  darkness.  The  bulk 
of  the  Chinese  forces  meantime  fled  before  dawn,  mak- 
ing their  way  out  between  the  troops  of  General 
Nozu  and  Colonel  Salo.  Finally  the  walls  were 
scaled  and  the  Japanese  were  in  possession  of  the  city 
when  the  sun  rose.  The  battle  of  Ping- Yang  ended 
the  power  of  China  in  Corea. 

It  now  was  the  duty  of  the  correspondent  to  get 
together  the  details  out  of  which  to  frame  his  account 
of  the  battle,  and  to  put  the  report  on  the  wire.  He 
sailed  down  the  Tai-Tong  in  a  junk  and  by  steamer 
coasted  along  the  shores  of  Corea  to  Chemulpo, 
whence  a  messenger  took  his  "copy"  across  the  sea  to 
Japan.  It  then  was  cabled  to  San  Francisco  and  wired 
to  New  York,  and  the  World  thus  secured  a  story  which 


S40      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

was  read  in  many  countries  with  an  interest  that 
amounted  to  fascination. 

But  at  Chemulpo  there  was  a  cable  for  Creelman 
also.  The  message  had  come  from  Ohio  and  the 
thirteen  paper  tags  attached  to  it,  bearing  the  seals 
of  thirteen  headquarters  of  the  Japanese  army,  showed 
that  the  cable  had  been  long  on  the  trail  of  the  special. 
The  despatch  contained  just  two  words:  "Boy  — 
Well."  That  was  enough;  Creelman  understood. 
But  the  message  had  a  sequel. 

As  he  made  his  way  back  to  Ping- Yang  that  night 
he  found  the  main  fleet  of  the  Japanese  at  the  mouth 
of  the  river.  Admiral  Ito  had  fought  the  battle  of 
the  Yalu  and  now  was  on  the  Corean  coast  for  repairs 
and  the  replenishment  of  his  supplies  of  ammunition. 
Creelman  alone  was  on  the  spot.  "Fortune,"  he  says, 
"had  given  me  the  first  story  of  the  most  important 
naval  fight  of  modern  times."  He  boarded  the  flag- 
ship Hashidate,  and  thus  recounts  what  occurred: 

"Admiral  Ito  was  asleep.  But  he  dressed  himself  and 
sent  for  his  fleet  captains  in  order  to  help  me  out  with  the 
details  of  the  battle.  As  the  Japanese  Admiral  sat  at  his 
table  surrounded  by  his  oflBcers,  with  the  rude  charts  of 
the  battle  spread  out  before  him,  he  looked  like  a  sea- 
commander —  tall,  eagle-eyed,  square-jawed,  with  a  sabre 
scar  furrowed  across  his  broad  forehead;  a  close-mouthed  man 
whose  coat  was  always  buttoned  to  the  chin. 

"And  when  the  tale  of  that  thrilling  struggle  on  the  Yellow 
Sea  was  over,  the  admiral  turned  to  me  smilingly. 

"*It  is  a  big  piece  of  news  for  you,'  he  said. 

"*Yes,'  I  answered,  *But  I  have  received  a  still  greater 
piece  of  news.' 

"Then  I  drew  from  my  pKJcket  the  cablegram  announcing 
the  birth  of  my  httle  boy,  and  read  it. 

"*Good!'  cried  the  admiral.  *We  will  celebrate  the 
event.     Steward,  bring  champagne!' 


JAMES  CREELMAN  341 

"Standing  in  a  circle  the  admiral  and  his  captains  clinked 
their  glasses  together  and  drank  the  health  of  my  boy." 

Corea  having  been  cleared  of  Chinese  troops,  the 
Japanese  invasion  of  China  began.  Creelman  crossed 
to  Manchuria  with  a  detachment  of  the  army  of  con- 
quest, and  hurried  on  ahead  of  his  baggage  and  inter- 
preter, riding  desperately  day  and  night  lest  he  be 
too  late  for  some  important  action  and  find  himself 
beaten  by  rival  specials.  He  reached  headquarters 
the  night  before  the  attack  on  Kinchow. 

Worn  out  as  he  was,  dawn  found  him  in  the  saddle 
and  at  noon  he  had  lunch  with  the  field-marshal  under 
a  big  tree,  when  the  meal  consisted  of  a  tin  pail  of 
dried  peas  roasted  over  a  camp  fire,  and  that  meal 
was  interrupted  by  the  beginning  of  the  cannonade 
which  reduced  the  city  after  an  hour's  firing.  The 
correspondent's  bed  was  soft  enough  that  night. 
Exhausted  once  more,  he  crept  into  a  Kinchow  shop 
and  lay  down  in  the  darkness  on  a  yielding  mass  of 
merchandise.  He  awoke  in  fairyland.  He  was 
stretched  on  a  great  pile  of  embroidered  silks  and  a 
splendid  collection  of  jackets  and  ornaments,  with  a 
painted  yellow  monster  for  a  pillow. 

The  massive  forts  six  miles  away  surrounding  Talien 
Bay  were  easily  taken  by  the  Japanese,  but  Creelman 
was  injured.  He  was  riding  with  General  Yamaji 
and  his  staff  into  an  entrenchment,  when  a  Chinese 
shell  struck  near,  wounded  his  hoarse,  and  threw  the 
American  to  the  ground,  breaking  a  rib  and  hurting 
his  knee.  He  rode  back  to  Kinchow  and  was  looked 
after  by  a  Japanese  surgeon.  The  wounds  were  not 
serious,  but  the  bandages  he  declares  to  have  been 
"fearfully  impressive."  For  some  time  he  made  his 
quarters  in  the  Kinchow  shop,   and  then,   again  in 


342      FAMOUS  WAR   CORRESPONDENTS 

fair  condition,  he  rode  with  Yamaji,  the  one-eyed, 
toward  Port  Arthur. 

Many  of  the  most  important  incidents  of  that 
first  taking  of  the  great  fortress  were  seen  by  Creelman. 
With  Yamaji  he  rode  for  hours  through  the  night  for 
the  turning  movement  upon  which  the  result  of  the 
investment  was  pivoted.  In  the  dawn  a  great  triple 
fort  was  stormed,  and  once  the  correspondent  was 
in  the  redoubt  he  had  the  whole  battlefield  spread  out 
under  his  eyes.  He  was  on  the  right  of  the  main  valley; 
on  the  left  were  seven  strong  forts  and  at  the  foot  of 
the  valley  was  the  town.  Beyond  on  a  ridge  were 
six  massive  modern  forts,  with  Ogunsan  standing 
far  above  the  town;  on  a  little  peninsula  were  three 
sea  forts.  The  whole  made  a  seemingly  impregnable 
fortress. 

There  were  colossal  duels  of  the  enginery  of  war; 
forts  were  captured  singly  and  in  groups,  and  at  last 
the  conquering  Japanese  struck  some  good  Chinese 
fighting  men.  For  a  time  they  were  halted,  but  the 
skirmish  lines  gained  the  flanks  of  the  Chinese  forces. 
A  small  column  dashed  over  the  most  exposed  space. 
The  town  was  doomed.  Creelman  clambered  down 
the  face  of  a  bluff  and  into  a  valley  whence  he  made 
his  way  to  the  top  of  a  hill  on  the  edge  of  the  town, 
where  he  found  the  American  and  British  military 
attaches,  and  watched  the  advance  guard  of  the 
Japanese  entering  Port  Arthur.  The  Japanese  fired 
volleys,  but  as  they  marched  forward  they  encountered 
no  shots  in  reply.  What  ensued  must  be  told  in  the 
correspondent's  own  language,  for  his  message  created 
a  sensation  over  all  the  world,  and  his  statements 
were  denounced  and  challenged  vehemently: 


JAMES   CREELMAN  343 

"Then  began  the  meaningless  and  unnecessary  massacre 
which  horrified  the  civilized  world  and  robbed  the  Japanese 
victory  of  its  dignity. 

"As  the  triumphant  troops  poured  into  Port  Arthur 
they  saw  the  heads  of  their  slain  comrades  hanging  by  cords 
with  the  noses  and  ears  shorn  off.  There  was  a  rude  arch 
at  the  entrance  of  the  town  decorated  with  these  bloody 
trophies.  It  may  have  been  this  sight  which  roused  the 
blood  of  the  conquerors,  and  banished  humanity  and  mercy 
from  their  hearts;  or  it  may  have  been  mere  lust  of  slaughter 
—  the  world  can  judge  for  itself.  But  the  Japanese  killed 
everything  they  saw. 

"Unarmed  men,  kneeling  in  the  streets  and  begging 
for  life,  were  shot,  bayoneted,  or  beheaded.  The  town  was 
sacked  from  end  to  end,  and  the  inhabitants  were  butchered 
in  their  own  houses.  .  .  . 

"In  the  morning  I  walked  into  Port  Arthur  with  the 
correspondent  of  the  London  Times.  The  scenes  in  the 
streets  were  heartrending.  Everywhere  we  saw  bodies 
torn  and  mangled,  as  if  by  wild  beasts.  Dogs  were  whim- 
pering over  the  frozen  corpses  of  their  masters.  The  victims 
were  mostly  shopkeepers.  Nowhere  the  trace  of  a  weapon, 
nowhere  the  sign  of  resistance.  It  was  a  sight  that  would 
damn  the  fairest  nation  on  earth." 

The  pitilessly  frank  tale  which  the  special  gave  to 
the  world  was  so  startling  in  itself,  and  it  charged  the 
Japanese,  whom  up  to  that  time  Creelman  had  praised 
lavishly,  not  only  for  their  courage  and  ability  as 
soldiers,  but  for  their  humanity  towards  a  defeated 
foe,  with  a  crime  against  civilization  of  such  frightful 
dimensions,  that  the  peoples  of  the  world  were  horrified. 
There  were  denials,  of  course.  Men  of  ability  as 
writers  and  whose  chances  for  observation  ought  to 
have  been  excellent,  declared  there  were  no  atrocities. 
It  has  been  said  that  the  Japanese  offered  the  corre- 
spondent for  the  New  York  World  a  large  sum  if  he 
would  suppress  the  story,  but  Creelman  printed  what 


344      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

he  had  seen,  never  retracted  a  syllable  of  his  statements, 
and  in  time  brought  forward  an  abundance  of  corrob- 
orative evidence,  including  some  photographs  taken 
on  the  spot  by  Frederic  Villiers.  For  his  fidelity 
Joseph  Pulitzer,  the  owner  of  the  World,  sent  a  con- 
gratulatory telegram  to  the  banquet  given  in  his  honor 
upon  his  return. 

We  next  find  James  Creelman  following  the  war- 
path in  that  short  campaign  in  Greece  which  gave 
such  unhampered  opportunities  to  a  host  of  corre- 
spondents, many  of  whom  placed  to  their  credit  such 
feats  of  enterprise  as  would  have  been  worthy  of  any 
one  of  the  great  wars  of  the  century.  Creelman  him- 
self had  a  picturesque  adventure  at  the  very  beginning 
of  these  four  weeks  of  fighting.  He  had  been  at 
Athens  keeping  in  touch  with  the  events  of  the  Cretan 
crisis  while  the  pickets  of  the  hostile  armies  approached 
each  other  in  the  Meluna  Pass  until  they  were  divided 
by  but  a  hundred  yards.  A  troop  ship  carried  him  to 
Volo  and  a  train  to  Larissa,  where  he  mounted  a 
scrawny  pony  and,  with  a  photographer,  rode  into 
the  famous  Pass. 

The  instant  he  crossed  the  line  which  bounded 
the  territories  of  the  combatants  he  was  made  a 
prisoner,  and  his  captors  took  him  to  Elassona, where 
was  pitched  the  camp  of  the  Turkish  field-marshal. 
The  Turkish  correspondent  of  a  Constantinople  paper 
acted  as  his  interpreter,  and  he  succeeded,  as  was 
fitting  in  the  case  of  such  a  master  of  the  art  of  the 
interview,  in  securing  a  long  conversation  with  Mem- 
douh  Pasha.  Like  the  other  specials  who  saw  the 
Turkish  troops  in  that  brief  campaign,  Creelman  was 
struck  with  admiration  of  their  order  and  their  general 
military  excellence,  and  his  talk  with  the  field-marshal 


JAMES   CREELMAN  345 

and  but  a  single  stroll  through  the  camp  convinced 
him  that  the  Sultan  would  be  an  easy  victor  over  the 
Greeks.  His  stay  in  the  camp  was  cut  short,  however, 
for  to  his  consternation  another  newspaper  man  reached 
the  spot.  Let  him  narrate  the  adventure  which  fol- 
lowed in  his  own  lively  fashion: 

"The  arrival  of  a  London  correspondent  in  Elassona 
sent  a  chill  down  my  back.  I  had  been  the  first  correspond- 
ent to  cross  the  frontier  and  enter  the  Turkish  lines.  That 
fact  in  itself  was  an  important  thing  for  newspaper  head- 
lines. But  now  I  was  face  to  face  with  a  rival  who  would 
undoubtedly  claim  the  credit  unless  I  reached  the  telegraph 
station  at  Larissa  before  him.  Mounting  my  tired  pony 
I  started  back  to  Greece.  The  Englishman  saw  the  point 
and  also  made  for  the  frontier.  He  was  mounted  on  a  good 
cavalry  horse  and  easily  distanced  me  on  the  plain,  but 
when  we  reached  the  Mylouna  Pass  he  was  obliged  to  dis- 
mount and  lead  his  horse  over  the  masses  of  broken  rocks, 
while  my  pony  moved  over  the  debris  with  the  skill  of  a 
mountain    goat.  .  .  . 

"The  ride  down  the  other  side  of  the  Pass  at  night  was 
a  thrilling  experience.  When  the  foot  of  the  Pass  was  reached 
the  pony  fell  to  the  ground  exhausted. 

"No  other  horse  was  to  be  had.  My  rival  was  moving 
somewhere  behind  me.  The  mud  was  deep,  and  twelve 
miles  stretched  between  me  and  Larissa.  I  started  to  walk 
across  the  Thessalian  plain  alone.  For  an  hour  I  plodded 
in  the  sticky  road,  listening  to  the  howling  of  the  savage 
shepherd  dogs  that  roamed  the  darkness  in  all  directions. 
Gradually  the  dogs  drew  nearer,  snapping  and  snarling 
as  they  approached.  Presently  I  found  myself  .«'urrounded 
by  the  hungry  brutes,  and  could  see  them  running  on  all 
sides.  I  tried  to  set  fire  to  the  giass,  but  it  was  too  wet. 
The  dogs  were  within  twenty  feet  of  me.  Then  I  heard 
the  sound  of  footsteps  and  voices.  The  dogs  retreated.  My 
blood  ran  cold.  Was  my  rival  about  to  find  me  in  this 
ridiculous  position  and  pass  me?  I  started  to  run  toward 
Larissa,  but  before  I  had  gone  two  hundred  feet  I  was  over- 


346      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

taken  by  two  Greek  soldiers  in  starched  skirts,  who  had 
been  sent  by  the  officer  of  the  guard  in  the  Pass  to  protect 
me  on  my  journey.    .  .  . 

"At  Tyrnavos  we  got  a  carriage,  and  I  reached  Larissa 
at  1  o'clock  in  the  morning,  splashed  with  mud  from  head 
to  foot.  My  rival  had  found  a  telephone  at  the  frontier, 
and  had  sent  a  message  to  London,  but  he  was  not  present 
to  plead  his  cause,  and  the  sight  of  my  travel-stained  gar- 
ments softened  the  heart  of  the  telegraph  superintendent, 
so  that  the  wire  which  was  conveying  messages  into  King 
George's  sleeping-room  was  interrupted  long  enough  to 
send  my  message  to  America." 

The  most  dramatic  incident  in  the  career  of  James 
Creelman  was,  probably,  the  charge  which  he  led  at 
El  Caney  in  the  Spanish-American  campaign  in  Cuba 
in  1898.  The  story  of  that  exploit  makes  one  of  the 
really  thrilling  tales  in  the  history  of  war  correspond- 
ence, and,  fortunately,  it  has  been  related  by  the 
correspondent  himself.  It  was  known  that  General 
Lawton  would  open  on  El  Caney  at  sunrise,  and  the 
newspaper  men,  having  snatched  some  three  hours 
of  sleep,  were  trudging  through  the  mire  long  before 
dawn.  Some  ten  miles  behind  them  were  the  despatch 
boats  with  steam  up  waiting  to  speed  to  the  cable 
station  on  Jamaica  with  the  reporters'  messages. 
Prudently,  Creelman  slipped  away  from  his  fellow 
specials.  A  military  friend  had  given  him  a  whispered 
"tip"  at  midnight,  and  it  cost  him  several  hours  of 
strenuous  exertion,  fighting  thorn  thickets  and  wading 
knee  deep  in  swamps  in  a  temperature  that  was  wither- 
ing. He  made  the  top  of  a  small  hill  from  which  the 
stone  fort  on  the  elevation  before  El  Caney  was  clearly 
seen.  There,  pencil  in  hand,  he  watched  the  small 
squads  of  men  running  across  the  open  spaces  below 
and  creeping  into  the  undergrowths  from  which  they 


JAMES  CREELMAN  347 

always  emerged  a  little  nearer  the  gray  fort.  An 
infantry  company  stretched  out  on  their  faces  on  the 
side  of  the  hill  on  which  sat  the  scribe  and  volleyed 
into  the  Spanish  trenches.  Their  powder  was  smoke- 
less and  the  Spaniards  were  trying  with  glasses  and 
telescopes  to  locate  their  foes.  For  hours  Creelman 
remained  on  this  ridge,  finally  moving  forward  to  the 
next  hill,  where  he  found  General  Chaffee  and  a  brisk 
infantry  fire.  A  bullet  clipped  a  button  from  the 
general's  coat  and  "he  smiled  in  a  half -startled,  half- 
amused  way."  Rain  began  to  fall,  and  the  corre- 
spondent put  on  his  rain  coat.  A  bullet  cut  away  the 
cape,  and  the  general  suggested  that  a  capeless  coat 
looked  better  anyway.  Under  a  tree  Creelman  sat 
with  General  Chaffee  and  related  what  he  had  seen  in 
the  hours  of  his  watch  from  the  hill  behind  them. 
The  charge  was  the  sequel  of  that  conversation.  Says 
the  reporter: 

"Then  I  suggested  a  bayonet  charge,  and  offered  to  lead 
the  way  if  he  would  send  troops  to  a  wrinkle  in  the  hill 
which  would  partly  shelter  them  until  they  were  within  close 
rushing  distance.  This  was  hardly  the  business  of  a  corre- 
spondent; but  whatever  of  patriotism  and  excitement  was 
stirring  others  in  that  place  of  carnage  had  got  into  my  blood 
also.  .  .  . 

"We  pushed  our  way  through  a  line  of  low  bushes  and 
started  up  the  hill  to  the  fort.  The  only  weapon  I  had  was 
a  revolver,  and  the  holster  was  hung  around  to  the  back 
so  that  I  should  not  be  tempted  to  draw. 

"When  I  found  myself  out  on  the  clear,  escarped  slope, 
in  front  of  the  fort  and  its  deadly  trench,  walking  at  the 
head  of  a  storming  party,  I  began  to  realize  that  I  had 
ceased  to  be  a  journalist,  and  was  now  —  foolishly  or  wisely, 
recklessly,  meddlesomely,  or  patriotically  —  a  part  of  the 
army,  a  soldier  without  warrant  to  kill. 

"It  is  only  three  hundred  feet  to  the  top  of  the  hill, 


348      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and  yet  the  slope  looked  a  mile  long.  .  .  .  There  was  a 
barbed  wire  fence  in  front  of  the  trench,  a  barrier  to  prevent 
charges.  But  it  had  never  occurred  to  the  minds  of  the 
Spanish  engineers  that  the  accursed  Yankees  —  unsoldierly 
shopkeepers!  —  would  think  of  carrying  wire-nippers  in 
their  pockets. 

"When  I  reached  this  fence  I  was  within  ten  feet  of  the 
trench  and  could  see  dead  hands  and  faces  and  the  hats  of 
the  living  soldiers  crouching  there.  A  scissors-like  motion 
of  the  fingers  indicated  to  Captain  Haskell  that  men  with 
wire-nippers  were  needed.  Two  soldiers  ran  up  and  began 
to  sever  the  wires.  .  .  . 

"It  took  but  a  few  seconds  to  cut  a  hole  in  the  fence 
and  reach  the  edge  of  the  trench.  It  was  crowded  with 
dead  and  dying  men.  Those  who  were  unhurt  were  crouch- 
ing down  waiting  for  the  end.  ...  A  silent  signal,  and 
one  of  the  men  who  had  cut  the  wire  fence  advanced,  and 
covered  the  men  in  the  trench  with  his  rifle.  A  spoken 
word,  and  the  cowering  Spaniards  leaped  up  and  raised 
their  hands  in  token  of  surrender.  ...  In  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  write  it,  the  trench  was  crossed  and  the  open 
door  at  the  end  of  the  fort  was  reached. 

"The  scene  inside  was  too  horrible  for  description. 
Our  fire  had  killed  most  of  the  garrison,  and  the  dead  and 
wounded  lay  on  the  floor  in  every  conceivable  attitude.  .  .  . 
Just  inside  the  door  stood  a  young  Spanish  ofiicer,  surrounded 
by  his  men.  .  .  .  Beside  him  was  a  soldier  holding  a  ramrod, 
to  which  was  fastened  a  white  handkerchief,  —  a  mute 
appeal  for  life.  ...  I  looked  about  the  roofless  walls  for 
the  flag.  It  was  gone.  .  .  ,  *A  shell  carried  the  flag  away,' 
said  the  Spanish  officer.  *It  is  lying  outside.'  Dashing 
through  the  door,  and  running  around  to  the  side  facing 
El  Caney  I  saw  the  red  and  yellow  flag  lying  in  the  dust,  a 
fragment  of  the  staff  still  attached  to  it.  I  picked  it  up 
and  wagged  it  at  the  entrenched  village." 

But  the  day  was  not  ended  for  the  non-combatant 
volunteer.  Bullets  were  whistling  about  the  door  of 
the  captured  fort  and  one  of  them  smashed  Creelman's 
left  arm.     In  spite  of  the  injury  he  tried  to  write 


JAMES   CREELMAN  349 

his  story,  but  fever  gripped  him  and  his  strength  began 
to  fail.  William  Randolph  Hearst,  the  publisher  of 
his  paper,  the  New  York  Journal,  came  to  the  rescue, 
wrote  the  despatch  from  the  special's  dictation,  and 
rode  with  it  to  the  coast,  whence  the  newspaper's  boat 
carried  it  to  the  end  of  the  cable. 

After  Cuba,  the  Philippines.  Creelman  had  his 
share  of  the  life  in  the  trenches  before  Manila,  and 
the  "wooden-headed  censorship"  he  denounced  with 
vigor.  He  marched  with  Funston  and  his  Kansas 
regiment  and  with  General  McArthur  advanced  against 
Malolos,  the  insurgent  capital.  When  the  place  was 
deserted  by  the  enemy  and  the  flames  burst  from  its 
burning  buildings  the  Kansans  fired  a  volley  and 
charged.  Their  commander.  Colonel  Funston,  and 
the  news  man  engaged  in  a  desperate  race  to  be  first 
within  the  town.  Over  the  barricade  they  leaped 
simultaneously  and  side  by  side  footed  it  in  what  they 
amicably  agreed  to  consider  a  tie. 

But  that  was  far  from  the  most  exciting  race  that 
came  to  James  Creelman  in  the  Philippines.  The 
struggle  to  be  first  at  the  cable  with  a  woman  for  a 
competitor  was  more  desperate,  and  he  won  it  by 
barely  a  minute.  There  is  no  more  quarter  in  war 
correspondence,  when  it  is  a  matter  of  being  first  with 
the  news,  than  is  there  in  war  itself,  and  this  wife  of 
a  sick  correspondent,  trying  bravely  to  do  her  husband's 
work,  was  for  the  time  a  rival  for  whom  no  considera- 
tions of  gallantry  could  be  entertained.  The  Com- 
mission sent  by  the  President  to  the  islands  was  about 
to  issue  a  proclamation  declaring  to  the  people  the 
purposes  of  the  United  States,  and  the  political  situ- 
ation at  home  made  the  proclamation  a  news  event  of 
the   first   importance.     Printed   proofs    were   handed 


350      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  newspaper  men  and  the  newspaper  woman.  The 
office  of  the  censor  was  two  miles  away.  Creelman's 
driver  lashed  his  horse  while  the  scribe  read  the  proof 
and  tried  to  cut  out  the  short  words,  that  his  skeletonized 
message  might  be  ready  for  the  cable  once  he  reached 
it.  The  driver  managed  to  bungle  the  passing  of  a 
heavy  wagon,  and  the  woman  dashed  by  at  a  furious 
pace,  scourging  her  foaming  horse.  While  she  worked 
over  her  proofs  in  the  censor's  office,  Creelman  reached 
it.  He  saw  her,  threw  down  his  bundle,  and  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  officer,  asked  that  he  be  authorized 
to  cable  it  all.  The  pages  were  initialed  by  the  censor, 
and  Creelman  ran  out  of  the  door.  His  horse  was 
exhausted,  but  he  snatched  a  carriage  standing  by, 
and  was  off  for  the  main  cable  office.  A  branch  was 
nearer,  but  he  thought  it  too  dangerous  to  allow  a 
woman  —  and  a  young  woman  —  to  go  alone  to  the 
main  office.  The  English  manager  knew  what  quick 
action  meant.  As  he  burst  into  the  little  wooden 
building  he  saw  at  a  glance  that  every  instrument  was 
silent.  Just  as  he  filed  his  long  message,  the  key  over 
which  his  woman  rival's  claim  would  be  filed  from  the 
branch  office  began  to  click.  Creelman  had  got  the 
cable  at  the  main  office  a  short  minute  before  she  had 
entered  her  claim  at  the  branch,  but  in  order  to  win 
that  race  he  had  been  obliged  to  forego  the  skeleton- 
izing of  his  long  despatch,  and  he  was  forced  also  to 
pay  tolls  at  the  urgent  rate,  which  was  nine  times 
the  regular  press  rate!  The  news  was  worth  it,  and 
the  exigency  required  it,  but  the  cable  charges  on 
that  "scoop"  were  precisely  $7,602.42. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
GEORGE  WILKINS  KENDALL 

"Kendall's  letters,  with  their  *  plunging  fire '  were  copied  everywhere, 
and  made  the  reputation  of  many  a  gallant  officer  and  soldier." — Frederick 
Hudson. 

**  We  remarked  at  the  commencement  of  the  war  that  all  its  incidents  and 
the  transactions  of  those  who  were  embarked  in  it  would  be  more  thor- 
oughly known  to  mankind  than  those  of  any  war  that  has  ever  taken  place." 

— Nile's  Register,  September  25^  181^7. 

The  first  war  to  be  adequately  and  comprehensively 

reported  in  the  daily  press  was  the  conflict  of  1846 

and   1847  between  the  United   States   and   Mexico, 

which  was  fought  in  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande  and 

among  the  mountains  of  the  central  part  of  the  Mexican 

Republic.     This  fact  has  never  been  recognized  by 

the  investigators  of  the  history  of  journalism.     The 

few  writers  who  have  had  occasion  to  refer  cursorily 

to  the  development  of  the  art  of  war  correspondence 

have  mentioned  the  work  done  by  Crabbe  Robinson 

in  1807  and  1808,  and  the  mission  of  Charles  Lewis 

Gruneisen  to  Spain  in  1837,  and  then  they  have  leaped 

to  William  Howard  Russell  and  the  Crimean  letters 

of  1854  and  the  following  years.     Crabbe  Robinson 

made  it  no  part  of  his  business  to  see  a  battle.     Nine 

years  before  the  war  between  the  United  States  and 

Mexico  began,  the  Morning  Post  sent  Gruneisen  to 

watch  the  Carlist  campaign;  he  was  attached  to  the 

headquarters  of  Don  Carlos  and  he  saw  fighting,  but 

the  days  of  strenuous  exertion  to  get  the  news  home 

had  not  yet  arrived,  and  there  was  no  competitive 

struggle  in  London  to  be  first  with  despatches  from 


352      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  field.  Gruneisen  was  the  first  definitely  commis- 
sioned war  reporter,  and  Russell  was  the  first  profes- 
sional war  correspondent,  but  it  was  eight  years  after 
the  end  of  the  Mexican  war  that  Russell  astounded 
Sir  George  Brown  at  Malta  by  the  announcement 
that  he  was  going  to  the  Crimea  for  The  Times, 

The  American  newspaper  men  who  rode  with 
Zachary  Taylor  and  Winfield  Scott  were  war  corre- 
spondents of  the  modern  type.  In  a  land  destitute 
of  the  railway  and  the  telegraph  they  showed  the  same 
qualities  of  resourcefulness  and  enterprise  in  obtaining 
the  news  and  getting  it  over  land  and  sea  to  their 
respective  papers  that  Archibald  Forbes  displayed  in 
France  in  1870.  They  organized  a  courier  service, 
and  by  the  occasional  employment  of  special  steamships 
fitted  up  as  composing  rooms  with  type  cases  and  com- 
positors, these  reporters  of  seventy  years  ago  scored 
their  "scoops"  and  outsped  the  government  despatch 
bearers.  Dependent  upon  the  slow  means  of  commu- 
nication of  that  primitive  era,  yet  George  Wilkins 
Kendall  and  some  of  his  confreres  were  as  alert  ^eSH 
daring  as  any  correspondents  of  later  years,  and  they 
deserve  to  be  rated  as  pioneers  in  the  profession, 
although,  as  the  reporters  of  a  single  war,  they  must 
be  regarded  as  regular  newspaper  men  to  whom  a 
war  was  an  exciting  episode,  rather  than  as  professional 
war  reporters  who  in  intervals  of  peace  engaged  in- 
cidentally in  other  departments  of  newspaper  work. 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  work  done  by  these  men 
in  remote  and  little-known  Mexico  in  that  far-off 
time  has  been  overlooked.  London  is  not  likely  to 
have  been  influenced  by  what  American  newspapers 
were  doing  in  that  day,  and  probably  the  sending  of 
Gruneisen  to  Spain  for  the  Morning  Post  had  little 


GEORGK    WILKINS    KENDALL 
From  a  daguerreotype  loaned  by  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Kendall 


GEORGE  WILKINS  KENDALL  353 

to  do  with  the  poHcy  adopted  by  the  New  Orleans 
Picayune  and  the  Delta  for  the  reporting  of  the  expedi- 
tion to  the  "Halls  of  the  Montezumas."  No  one 
can  say  if  The  Times^  when  Russell  was  sent  to  the 
Crimea,  obtained  any  suggestion  from  the  work  which 
had  been  done  by  "G.  W.  K.,"  "Mustang,"  and 
"  Chaparral,"  and  other  Mexican  specials.  The  Crimean 
commanders  thought  it  an  appalling  thing  that  a 
newspaper  man  was  to  make  the  campaign  with  them, 
but  there  were  a  score  of  newspaper  men  present  at 
every  important  event  in  the  two  campaigns  of  the 
war  in  Mexico,  and  it  is  a  simple  chronological  fact 
that  [the  first  war  reporters  to  display  the  qualities 
now  universally  associated  with  the  title  were  those 
men  of  1846  and  1847.) 

The  style  of  some  of  the  despatches  sent  out  from 
the  camps  of  Scott  and  Taylor  glitters  with  gewgaws 
and  in  some  there  is  palpable  intention  to  flatter 
certain  commanders.  Few  of  these  correspondents 
were  competent  military  critics;  their  letters  are  in 
the  main  a  chronicle  of  "thrilling  achievements"  by 
"our  gallant  troops."  But  —  the  scream  of  the 
American  eagle  was  heard  from  every  stump  in  every 
political  campaign  in  those  days,  and  these  despatches, 
hurried  with  unexampled  speed  across  two  thousand 
miles  of  sea  and  land,  partake  of  the  characteristics  of 
the  time.  However,  the  writers  had  no  defeats  to  de- 
scribe but  a  succession  of  victories  and  marches,  some 
of  which  were  very  remarkable.  Many  of  their  mes- 
sages, especially  those  of  Kendall,  are  excellent  examples 
of  reporting,  and  a  good  many  military  reputations 
were  made  by  these  correspondents.  The  reporter 
who  told  how  Jefferson  Davis  suddenly  placed  his 
regiment  in  the  form  of  a  V  at  Buena  Vista  to  repulse 


354      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

a  Mexican  charge  helped  that  soldier  to  become  the 
President  of  the  Confederacy.  For  years  the  saying 
"A  little  more  grape.  Captain  Bragg,"  was  as  famous 
among  Americans  as  is  "You  may  fire  when  ready, 
Gridley,"  today,  or  as  ever  "Up!  guards  and  at  them," 
was  in  England,  but  Taylor's  saying  to  Braxton  Bragg 
was,  of  course,  in  the  despatch  of  a  correspondent, 
never  in  the  official  reports  of  an  officer. 

When  that  new  enterprise  challenged  American 
journalism,  a  new  implement  for  the  collection  and  the 
distribution  of  news  was  just  coming  into  use.  Over 
a  wire  forty  miles  long,  a  year  and  a  half  before  the 
first  shots  were  fired,  the  telegraph  had  demonstrated 
its  utility  as  a  bearer  of  news.  When  the  fighting 
began  on  the  Rio  Grande  only  about  1200  miles  of 
telegraph  were  in  operation,  and  the  wires  stretched 
almost  entirely  north  from  the  city  of  Washington 
into  the  populous  Middle  and  Eastern  States.  The 
city  of  New  Orleans,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi, 
a  thousand  miles  from  Washington,  was  the  centre 
for  news  of  the  war.  To  the  Southern  metropolis 
the  tidings  were  brought  by  steamboat  and  sailing 
vessel  from  Point  Isabel,  from  Tampico  and  from  Vera 
Cruz,  and  to  the  ships  the  news  was  brought  by  the 
daring  couriers,  the  express  riders  who  had  to  run  the 
gauntlet  of  the  guerillas  who  infested  the  dry  plains 
of  northern  Mexico  and  the  difficult  mountain  region 
between  the  capital  and  the  city  of  Vera  Cruz,  whence 
Scott  started  on  his  march  inland. 

There  was  great  rivalry  among  the  New  Orleans 
papers  to  be  first  on  the  street  with  the  news  which 
the  couriers  and  the  ships  brought  to  the  city.  From 
New  Orleans  the  news  was  sent  up  the  Mississippi 
River   by   steamboat   to   St.    Louis,    Cincinnati   and 


GEORGE  WILKINS  KENDALL  355 

Chicago,  but  the  most  strenuous  exertions  were  made 
to  send  it  on  to  Washington  in  the  shortest  possible 
time.  By  steamboat  and  pony  express  the  copies 
of  the  New  Orleans  papers  and  the  packets  of  letters 
were  hurried  across  the  Southern  States.  Once  in 
Washington  the  new  Morse  system  was  at  the  service 
of  the  government  and  the  press,  and  there  were  also 
between  two  and  three  thousand  miles  of  railroad 
in  operation,  but  over  vast  areas  of  the  North  neither 
the  wire  nor  the  railway  was  available  for  the  trans- 
mission of  news. 

In  New  York  City  the  competition  to  get  the 
tidings  first  from  New  Orleans  was  as  keen  as  was  the 
rivalry  in  the  Southern  city  to  be  first  with  despatches 
from  Mexico.  The  most  energetic  papers  of  the  day 
were  the  Picayune  and  the  Delta  in  the  metropolis  of 
the  South  and  the  Herald  in  New  York  City;  to  these 
journals  the  country  was  indebted  chiefly  for  its  intel- 
ligence of  the  war.  The  telegraphic  era  of  the  press 
may  be  said  to  have  begun  with  the  reports  wired  from 
Washington  of  the  opening  battles  on  the  Rio  Grande. 

News  from  the  "Independent  Republic  of  Texas" 
began  to  be  of  enormous  interest  to  the  country  about 
the  year  1844,  and  James  Gordon  Bennett  of  the  Herald 
at  once  planned  to  supply  the  demand  by  extensive 
additions  to  the  overland  express  service.  The  election 
of  James  K.  Polk  to  the  Presidency  indicated  a  majority 
approval  for  the  annexation  of  Texas,  and  annexation 
meant  trouble  with  Mexico.  The  election  occurred 
in  the  November  of  1844,  and,  without  waiting  for 
the  war  which  seemed  inevitable  to  many,  Bennett, 
on  the  day  after  the  following  Christmas,  announced 
an  overland  express  from  New  Orleans.  When  the 
war  began  in   1846,  the  service  became  a  national 


356      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

necessity,  and  Bennett  made  arrangments  with  the 
Sun  of  Baltimore  and  the  Public  Ledger  of  Philadelphia 
to  run  an  express  every  week,  and  on  extra  days  when- 
ever the  news  reaching  New  Orleans  from  Mexico 
might  justify  the  expense. 

The  correspondents  who  went  to  the  war  in  Mexico 
took  their  hints  for  speedy  delivery  of  news  from  the 
pony  express  systems  with  which  they  had  been  ac- 
.quainted  in  the  States.  The  application  of  the  relay 
system  to  the  expediting  of  press  reports  from  the 
battle-field  was  a  new  thing  in  the  world.  These  pioneer 
war  reporters  also  used  the  methods  employed  by  the 
papers  of  the  North  to  get  their  news  across  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico.  The  founders  of  the  New  Orleans  Picayune 
were  Northern  men  and  they  knew  how  cleverly  sailing 
ships  and  steamboats  had  been  brought  into  the 
service  of  the  press. 

New  Orleans  was  the  focal  point  to  which  all  the 
lines  converged  in  the  Mexican  War  time  and  from 
which  they  diverged  again  to  all  parts  of  the  United 
States.  Conditions  in  the  city  were  such  as  to  produce 
an  intense  rivalry  in  the  collection  and  dissemination 
of  news.  Among  all  classes  there  was  a  lively  interest 
in  the  affairs  of  the  sturdy  Texans.  Moreover,  there 
were  as  many  daily  papers  in  the  city  as  in  London, 
eight  in  all,  and  a  few  years  later  there  were  more. 
Five  of  these  were  printed  wholly  in  English  in  the 
American  quarter,  and  three  of  them,  the  Picayune, 
the  Times  and  the  Sun,  were  sold  for  a  penny,  so-called, 
for  in  the  absence  of  copper  coins  in  the  city  these 
"penny  papers"  were  bought  with  a  coin  of  the  lowest 
denomination  there  in  use,  the  picayune,  whose  value 
was  about  six  and  a  quarter  cents. 
\  In    that    historic    and    picturesque    city,    George 


GEORGE  WILKINS  KENDALL  357 

Wilkins  Kendall,  a  New  Hampshire  Yankee,  and 
Francis  Lumsden  established  the  Picayune,  the  first 
cheap  paper  which  the  city  possessed,  the  inaugural 
number  of  which  was  issued  on  January  25,  1837. 
Bom  in  1809  in  what  is  now  Mount  Vernon,  N.  H., 
Kendall  learned  the  printer's  trade  in  Burlington, 
Vermont,  and  worked  as  a  printer  in  Washington  on 
the  National  Intelligencer,  with  **Duff"  Green  on  the 
National  Telegraph,  and  with  Horace  Greeley  on  the 
New  York  Tribune,  He  developed  a  fondness  for 
jocosities,  and  accumulated  in  his  memory  a  large 
store'  of  anecdotes,  scraps  of  humor,  epigrams  and 
witty  sayings.  In  the  midst  of  the  cholera  year  of 
1832  in  New  York,  he  left  for  New  Orleans,  and  after 
a  year  with  the  Alabama  Register  at  Mobile,  he  reached 
that  city  at  the  age  of  twenty-five.  Here  after  a 
couple  of  years  he  joined  forces  with  Lumsden  and 
established  a  cheap  daily.  At  the  beginning  only  a 
four-page  folio  about  ten  inches  by  fifteen  in  size,  but 
characterized  by  its  bright  and  witty  quality,  it  is 
described  in  its  infancy  "as  an  audacious  little  sheet, 
scarcely  large  enough  to  wrap  around  a  loaf  of  bread, 
and  as  full  of  witticisms  as  one  of  Thackerary's  dreams 
after  a  light  supper."  It  made  a  stir  in  a  city  whose 
oflScials  were  accustomed  to  deferential  homage  by 
printing  lively  sonnets  about  them.  It  dared  to 
make  jokes  about  sugar  and  cotton  and  it  "  sneezed 
at  tobacco."  The  innovation  was  startling  and  it 
caught  the  fancy  of  the  people.  The  paper  became 
a  kaleidoscope  in  which  all  the  hues  of  the  many- 
colored  life  of  the  city  were  reflected.  A  contemporary 
writer  says  the  paper  could  no  more  avoid  success, 
than  a  clever  girl  can  avoid  a  husband.     After  a  few 


S58      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

years  Kendall  embarked  upon  the  adventure  which 
took  him  to  Mexico  for  the  first  time. 

Says  the  social  historian  of  old  New  Orleans: 
**  George  Wilkins  Kendall  went  off  one  fine  day  to 
what  he  proposed  would  be  a  kind  of  picnic  in  the  wilds 
of  western  Texas.  His  Santa  Fe  expedition  spun  out 
a  larger  and  more  varied  experience  than  he  contem- 
plated." True,  indeed,  for  towards  the  end  of  the  year 
rumors  of  the  fate  of  the  expedition  began  to  filter 
back  to  the  United  States,  and  the  Legislatures  of 
Louisiana,  Kentucky  and  Maryland  called  upon  the 
President  to  secure  the  liberation  of  the  American 
citizens  said  to  be  immured  in  the  dungeons  of  the 
city  of  Mexico. 

Kendall's  own  graphic  narrative  supplies  a  complete 
record  of  the  adventure,  and  a  few  incidents  which 
were  told  in  the  Picayune  in  1842  supplied  Captain 
Maryatt  with  material  which  he  incorporated  in  his 
"Monsieur  Violet,"  published  in  London  in  1843. 
In  April,  1841,  Kendall,  now  well  established  as  an 
editor  and  wit  in  New  Orleans,  met  an  agent  who 
was  purchasing  equipment  for  the  expedition.  Its 
purpose  was  declared  to  be  commercial,  and  Kendall 
is  said  to  have  been  in  ignorance  of  its  real  character 
as  a  filibustering  enterprise.  An  extensive  trade  had 
been  carried  on  between  Santa  Fe  and  the  United 
States  through  St.  Louis,  and  it  was  proposed  that 
much  of  this  business  should  be  diverted  by  the  opening 
of  a  military  road  from  Santa  Fe  to  Austin,  Texas. 
The  Congress  of  the  United  States  rejected  a  bill 
authorizing  and  financing  the  expedition,  and  it  was 
then  supported  officially  by  General  Lamar,  the  gover- 
nor of  the  Independent  State  of  Texas.  Lamar  issued 
a  proclamation  offering  to  take  the  people  of  Santa 


GEORGE   WILKINS  KENDALL  359 

Fe  under  the  protection  of  Texas  if  they  desired,  and 
if  they  were  averse  he  affirmed  his  wish  to  establish 
friendly  commercial  relations  with  them.  The  expe- 
dition was  organized  in  military  fashion  as  a  protective 
measure,  for  between  the  settled  districts  of  Texas 
and  New  Mexico  there  stretched  a  region  six  hundred 
miles  wide,  through  which  roamed  hordes  of  savages. 
Santa  Fe  was  entirely  Mexican  and  under  Mexican 
rule,  and  historians  are  of  the  opinion  that  Governor 
Armijo  of  New  Mexico  was  justified  in  seizing  the 
"invaders"  and  sending  them  as  prisoners  of  war  to 
Mexico,  but  that  the  surrender  was  induced  by  false 
promises  and  that  the  captives  were  dealt  with  brutally 
and  treacherously. 

The  force  with  which  Kendall  had  associated  him- 
self, probably  out  of  love  of  adventure,  started  from 
near  Austin  in  June,  1841.  There  were  two  hundred 
and  seventy  soldiers  and  fifty  other  persons  in  the 
party,  but  the  wagons  were  overloaded,  the  guides 
were  not  reliable  and  the  distance  had  been  under- 
estimated. Grass  and  water  were  scarce  owing  to 
the  lateness  of  the  start  and  men  and  animals  were 
soon  gaunt  and  feeble  from  hunger;  stragglers  were 
killed  by  Indians;  traitors  were  found  in  the  expedition's 
membership.  Obliged  to  separate  into  detachments, 
all  were  taken  finally  by  General  Armijo.  Lamar's 
proclamations  were  burned  as  a  bonfire  in  the  plaza 
of  Sante  Fe.  The  prisoners  were  tied  together  with 
lariats  and  started  on  a  long  journey  to  the  city  of 
Mexico.  Kendall  produced  his  passport  signed  by 
the  Mexican  consul  at  New  Orleans;  it  was  pronounced 
genuine,  but  as  he  was  "with  the  enemies  of  Mexico" 
he  was  detained  with  the  rest.  Several  prisoners 
were  shot  in  the  back  and  some  were  mutilated. 


360      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

The  prisoners  trudged  along  on  the  march  to  Mexico, 
guarded  by  two  hundred  mounted  men.  The  swollen 
ankles  of  a  Texan  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  march 
further  and  he  was  shot  without  ceremony.  One 
night,  to  the  number  of  two  hundred,  the  captives  were 
piled  in  a  room  barely  big  enough  for  twenty,  what 
Kendall  called  "another  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta." 
The  miseries  of  the  tramp  became  almost  insupportable. 
Arrived  at  the  capital,  the  worn-out  Texans  were  thrown 
into  dungeons  in  Mexico,  Puebla  and  Perote.  Those 
who  were  able  to  prove  themselves  citizens  of  the  United 
States  or  of  European  countries  sought  the  aid  of  the 
representatives  of  their  respective  nations,  and  in 
the  end  were  released.  In  June,  1842,  more  than 
one  hundred  were  liberated  as  an  act  of  clemency  on 
the  birthday  of  Santa  Anna,  who  was  again  at  the 
head  of  the  government. 

Kendall  was  at  first  confined  in  the  old  palace  of 
San  Cristobal,  and  there  he  was  visited  by  the  members 
of  the  United  States  legation,  and  by  Lumsden,  his 
partner  in  the  Picayune,  who  soon  returned  to  New 
Orleans  to  plead  his  cause.  After  an  attack  of  small- 
pox Kendall  was  removed  to  the  gloomy  San  Lazaro, 
where  he  was  confined  among  the  lepers.  Removed 
at  length  from  the  leper  prison,  the  editor  was  put  in 
chains  with  other  captives  and  immured  at  Santiago. 
They  were  taken  to  the  cathedral  services  from  time 
to  time,  and  Kendall  was  planning  an  attempt  to 
escape  upon  one  of  these  walks  to  mass,  when  the  order 
came  for  his  release.  A  blacksmith  knocked  off  his 
irons  and  he  made  his  way  home  through  Jalapa  and 
Vera  Cruz.  He  arrived  in  New  Orleans  to  find  himself 
famous  and  wrote  a  fascinating  account  of  his  ex- 
periences.    There  followed  three  years  of  journalism. 


GEORGE  WILKINS  KENDALL  361 

with  the  Picayune  waxing  more  influential  from  year 
to  year,  and  then  the  war  summoned  his  energies. 

The  New  Orleans  newspapers  sent  nearly  a  score 
of  correspondents  to  the  war,  a  few  of  whom  were 
with  the  armies  of  Taylor  and  Scott  throughout  their 
campaigns.  Often  they  printed  daily  news  sheets  at 
the  places  occupied  by  the  army;  at  Tampico,  Lumsden 
himself  issued  the  Tampico  Sentinel.  When  Robert 
Anderson,  then  an  artillery  officer  with  Scott  and  later 
to  be  the  hero  of  Fort  Sumter,  wrote  home  from  Vera 
Cruz  he  referred  to  the  American  Eagle^  which  he  was 
sending  home  to  supplement  the  news  his  letters 
contained.  The  Eagle  was  published  by  three  news- 
paper adventurers,  who  followed  the  army  on  to  Jalapa 
and  there  issued  the  American  Star,  continuing  the 
series  also  in  Puebla  and  in  the  city  of  Mexico. 

Aside  from  Kendall,  the  most  enterprising  corre- 
spondent with  the  troops  was  James  L.  Freaner  of  the 
Delta,  who  used  the  signature  "  Mustang."  At  the 
battle  of  Monterey  he  killed  an  officer  of  Lancers  in 
single  combat  and  seized  his  charger,  whence  the  name 
which  he  adopted  for  newspaper  purposes,  according 
to  the  fashion  of  the  times.  After  some  early  adven- 
tures in  Texas  and  Louisiana  he  had  gone  to  the  Rio 
Grande  with  the  New  Orleans  regiments,  later  enter- 
ing a  famous  company  of  rangers  led  by  Captain  Jack 
Hays.  He  was  involved  in  the  controversy  which 
grew  out  of  the  publication  in  the  Delta  of  what  was 
called  the  "  Leonidas  letter,"  in  which  the  praises  of 
General  Pillow  were  trumpeted  with  more  noise  than 
wisdom.  Upon  two  occasions  Freaner  was  the  bearer 
of  important  official  despatches,  carrying  messages 
to  Washington  for  General  Scott  in  November,  1847, 


362      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and  taking  the  Treaty  of  Peace  from  Nicholas  Trist 
to  the  President  in  February,  1848. 

The  necessity  of  the  war  with  Mexico  was  steadily 
maintained  in  the  columns  of  the  Picayune,  and  no 
sooner  did  the  conflict  actually  begin  than  Kendall 
was  away  for  the  Rio  Grande.  Point  Isabel  was 
selected  as  the  base  for  the  army  of  General  Taylor, 
and  there  vessels  were  constantly  arriving  and  departing 
and  troops  from  every  State  in  the  Union  were  landed. 
Soon  the  army  went  into  camp  on  the  Rio  Grande 
opposite  Matamoras,  and  between  the  camp  and  the 
base  mail  riders  traveled  every  day.  Frequently 
these  riders  lost  their  mail  bags  and  occasionally  they 
were  captured  by  the  prowling  bands  of  guerillas 
which  early  in  1846  infested  that  portion  of  the  lines 
of  communication. 

Through  the  summer  of  1846,  Kendall  was  much 
of  the  time  with  the  Rangers  of  Captain  Benjamin 
McCulloch,  a  commander  whose  men  called  him 
"  Ben,'*  who  "  could  ride  anything  that  went  on  four 
legs,"  who  fought,  camped,  and  drank  at  his  own 
discretion,  and  who  had  not  the  slightest  notion  of 
discipline  or  drill,  but  nevertheless  was  invaluable 
to  the  main  body  of  the  army  because  of  his  abilities 
as  a  scout.  With  the  Mexican  mounted  bodies  known 
as  the  Lancers  he  had  innumerable  brushes  and  in 
many  of  these  Kendall  had  a  share.  The  Rangers 
were  the  Rough  Riders  of  their  day,  with  bandanna 
handkerchiefs  knotted  round  their  throats,  in  the 
Havelock  fashion  of  the  Roosevelt  men  of  1898,  and 
cartridge  belts  tied  about  their  waists,  very  quick 
on  the  trigger  and  very  cunning  in  their  cross  country 
rides. 

With  these  daring  men  the  New  Orleans  editor 
waded  and  floundered  through  water,  mire  and  mud 


GEORGE  WILEJNS  KENDALL  363 

when  the  Rio  Grande  was  over  its  banks,  and  crept 
through  the  thick  and  matted  chaparral  under  a  scorch- 
ing sun.  *'  Not  a  sign  of  a  tent  do  we  take  along," 
he  said,  '*and  shade  and  shelter  are  unknown  here." 
Taylor  did  not  favor  a  march  against  the  city  of  Mexico 
with  the  Rio  Grande  as  a  base  because  of  the  diflficulty 
of  obtaining  supplies  and  decided  upon  an  attack 
upon  the  northern  provinces.  Going  up  the  river,  he 
established  Camargo  as  a  base  of  supplies  and  early 
in  August  began  to  move  against  the  important  city 
of  Monterey,  which  was  completely  encircled  by  strong 
forts,  with  barricaded  streets  and  loop-holed  houses. 
By  the  end  of  September  the  fortress  had  been  stormed 
and  the  city  was  surrendered. 

All  these  operations  were  observed  by  Kendall 
and  he  sent  back  couriers  with  reports  for  the  Picayune 
as  often  as  was  possible.  Almost  as  a  free  lance  he 
rode  with  the  Rangers.  In  the  storming  of  the  second 
height  at  Monterey  a  member  of  his  mess  was  shot. 
One  morning  just  at  dawn,  after  a  night  under  the 
Spanish  bayonet  trees,  ten  miles  from  Monterey, 
with  a  little  party  of  twenty-five  horsemen,  Kendall 
set  forth  upon  a  reconnoitering  expedition.  During 
the  morning  they  fell  in  with  a  large  body  of  Mexican 
cavalry,  whom  they  rushed  in  approved  prairie  fashion 
and  drove  back.  Some  weeks  later,  when  Saltillo  was 
entered  by  the  troops  of  Taylor,  there  were  other 
skirmishes  between  McCuUoch's  men  and  the  Mexican, 
mounted  troops.  In  one  of  these  small  fights,  Kendall,  \ 
who  much  of  the  time  was  doing  the  work  of  a  soldier ' 
and  could  hardly  claim  the  immunity  of  a  non- 1 
combatant  usually  granted  a  war  correspondent, 
plunged  into  the  melee  and  came  out  with  a  cavalry 
flag  as  a  trophy,  a  flag  which  has  upon  occasion  been 


364      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

exhibited  in  New  Orleans  by  the  Picayune  in  the  booth 
maintained  for  carnival  and  exposition  purposes. 

Before  the  battle  of  Buena  Vista  was  fought  Taylor's 
veterans  were  ordered  to  Tampico  to  become  a  j)art 
of  the  army  to  be  mobilized  for  service  under  General 
Scott,  leaving  the  northern  commander  with  a  com- 
paratively small  force.  As  the  central  part  of  Mexico 
now  was  to  become  the  scene  of  the  most  important 
operations,  Kendall  made  his  way  to  Tampico  and 
Lumsden  also  established  himself  there.  For  weeks 
after  Taylor  had  won  the  battle  which  made  him  a 
national  hero  and  secured  for  him  the  Presidency  of 
the  United  States,  the  whole  country  was  filled  with 
rumors  of  the  most  disheartening  sort.  Taylor  had 
been  '* badly  whipped"  by  Santa  Anna  and  "driven 
through  the  streets  of  Saltillo."  The  battle  occurred 
on  February  23,  1847,  but  the  result  was  not  known 
for  a  month. 

President  Polk's  diary  indicates  how  deep  was  the 
anxiety  in  Washington.  He  expressed  the  opinion 
that  among  the  advisers  who  *' controlled"  the  move- 
ments of  the  general  was  "  Mr.  Kendall,  editor  of  the 
Picayune  at  New  Orleans."  On  March  £0,  1847,  the 
President  found  the  mails  bringing  many  vague  rumors 
from  New  Orleans;  the  next  day's  mails  brought  details 
of  Taylor's  critical  position;  on  the  evening  of  the 
twenty-second  the  messages  had  "Taylor  completely 
cut  ofif  by  an  overwhelming  force  of  the  enemy,"  and 
Polk  recorded  his  grave  fears  for  the  safety  of  the 
army  of  Northern  Mexico.  The  rumors  continued 
to  reach  the  capital  and  Polk  continued  to  record  his 
criticisms  of  Taylor,  until  the  last  days  of  March 
brought  newspaper  reports  of  the  fighting,  and  the 
first  evening  of  April  brought  the  official  reports. 


GEORGE   WILKINS   KENDALL  365 

Santa  Anna  had  acted  with  boldness  and  skill 
in  attacking  Taylor  at  Buena  Vista.  A  guerilla  band 
had  intercepted  a  despatch  rider  and  given  Santa 
Anna  possession  of  the  plans  for  the  coming  campaign. 
With  this  information  at  his  service  he  marched  north 
at  once  to  assail  Taylor,  whose  veterans  had  been 
stripped  from  him.  The  fighting  was  desperate  and 
a  less  resolute  commander  than  Taylor  would  have 
been  defeated.  The  tidings  were  delayed  in  reaching 
the  States  by  the  interruption  of  communication 
between  Monterey  and  Point  Isabel.  The  New 
Orleans  papers  were  filled  with  the  stories  that  filtered 
through  Tampico  and  Vera  Cruz.  Messengers  from 
the  camp  of  the  army  could  reach  Monterey,  but  to 
get  through  to  Camargo  they  were  obhged  to  make  a 
detour  of  hundreds  of  miles  to  evade  the  Mexican 
marauders.  The  Picayune  finally  received  the  news 
from  a  messenger  who  left  Monterey  on  March  9, 
sailed  from  the  Brazos  aboard  a  schooner  on  March 
14,  and  fifty  miles  below  the  city  took  passage  in  a 
towboat  which  landed  him  in  New  Orleans  at  three 
on  the  morning  of  March  24.  The  copies  of  the  Pica- 
yune containing  the  joyful  tidings  reached  Baltimore 
and  Washington  when  a  fierce  political  debate  was 
going  on  as  to  the  responsibility  for  the  weakening  of 
the  army  of  Taylor  to  such  an  extent  that  Santa  Anna 
had  been  able  to  wreck  it.  The  official  despatches 
arrived  a  day  later. 

Meantime  Scott  had  been  organizing  the  army 
with  which  he  was  to  march  to  the  capital  of  Mexico. 
By  the  end  of  January,  1847,  he  had  gathered  his 
men  at  Brazos,  San  Jago  and  Tampico,  whence  during 
February  they  were  carried  in  transports  to  the  Island 
of  Lobos,  sixty  miles  south  of  Tampico,  and  from  there 


366      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

they  set  sail  for  Vera  Cruz.  The  investment  was 
begun  by  General  Worth,  with  whom  throughout  the 
campaign  Kendall  was  closely  associated,  and  in 
fourteen  days  the  Americans  were  in  the  city.  Ken- 
dall's pen  was  very  busy.  Thirteen -inch  shells  from 
the  castle  of  San  Juan  de  Ulloa  were  bursting 
near  him  as  he  wrote  his  letters  from  Vera  Cruz. 
With  his  messages  he  sent  topographical  sketches 
of  the  defences  and  the  lines  of  investment.  On 
April  18,  the  army  swept  up  through  the  pass  of  Cerro 
Gordo  and  stormed  the  heights.  Lumsden  also  had 
been  at  Vera  Cruz,  but  a  week  before  Cerro  Gordo 
he  was  hurt  in  an  accident,  and  he  sent  a  letter  to  his 
paper  saying  that  he  was  writing  "  splintered  up,  tucked 
up  and  tied  up,  after  having  been  carried  back  into  the 
city  of  Vera  Cruz  on  the  shoulders  of  a  lot  of  soldiers." 
But  Kendall  was  upon  the  scene  throughout  the 
fighting  at  Cerro  Gordo,  and  kept  almost  an  hour-to- 
hour  record  of  the  conflict.  He  wrote  on  the  evening 
of  April  15,  on  the  morning  of  the  following  day  at 
eight  and  at  eleven,  twice  in  the  afternoon,  and  several 
times  on  the  next  day.  His  letters  were  sent  back  to 
Vera  Cruz  consigned  to  his  partner,  and  the  "  splintered 
up"  Lumsden  did  what  he  could  to  expedite  their 
passage  to  New  Orleans.  The  mountains  became 
higher,  wilder  and  more  diflBcult  of  ascent  and  the 
Mexican  guns  were  firing  down  upon  the  advancing 
invaders.  Scott's  troops  swept  on  and  up,  but  their 
lines  were  thinned  day  by  day  by  incurable  fever  and 
the  steadily  downpouring  cannonade  and  musketry 
of  the  ambushed  Mexicans.  Every  day  there  was  a 
skirmish  and  frequently  there  was  a  battle;  on  April 
22,  Worth  took  possession  of  Perote,  a  strong  fortress 
which  should  have  been  defended.     On  May  1,  Kendall 


GEORGE  WILKINS  KENDALL  367 

was  writing  from  Jalapa.  A  little  later  he  entered 
Puebla  with  Scott,  and  stretched  out  to  sleep  with 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  troops  in  the  public  square. 
Early  in  June,  Kendall  had  to  take  his  turn  of  incapaci- 
tation. He  was  sick,  and  "the  Man  in  the  White 
Hat"  —  curious  sobriquet  for  a  substitute  corre- 
spondent —  was  writing  his  letters  for  him.  Until 
early  August  the  army  remained  quiet;  the  men  drilled; 
they  climbed  to  the  church  at  Cholula  which  had 
replaced  the  sacrificial  temple  of  the  Aztecs;  and  they 
looked  at  the  snow  summits  beyond  which  lay  the 
**  Halls  of  the  Montezumas"  of  which  so  much  had 
been  said  in  the  States  when  the  war  began. 

The  army  reached  the  crest  of  these  mountains 
on  August  10,  and  the  troops  sighted  for  the  first  time 
the  "Venice  of  the  Aztecs,"  the  city  which  Cortez 
had  conquered  three  hundred  years  before.  Never 
was  a  capital  surrounded  with  such  a  maze  of  defences, 
fortresses,  causeways,  canals  and  swamps;  but  one 
after  another  the  forts  were  stormed,  and  on  December 
13,  Chapultepec,  which  the  Mexicans  believed  to  be 
impregnable,  was  taken.  Through  these  actions  Ken- 
dall was  with  General  Worth,  serving  much  of  the 
time  as  a  volunteer  aide  on  his  staff.  Hurried  letters, 
written  a  few  hours  apart,  were  sent  off  with  synopses 
of  the  battles  which  crowded  one  upon  another.  Five 
successive  engagements,  entirely  distinct  from  each 
other,  were  fought  in  one  day,  and  each  was  an  attack 
on  entrenchments  against  an  enemy  of  greatly  superior 
numbers.  Of  "the  glorious  events  of  the  twentieth" 
Kendall  wrote  with  enthusiasm.  He  had  climbed 
church  towers  to  have  views  of  the  fields,  he  had  gone 
over  the  ground  after  the  fighting,  he  had  carried  des- 
patches for  Worth.     His  letters  are  full  of  familiar 


368      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

names,  Franklin  Pierce,  Phil  Kearney  and  his  great 
charge,  Anderson,  Hitchcock,  and  Robert  E.  Lee. 
Churubusco,  Contreras,  and  the  other  actions  thus 
lost,  determined  Santa  Anna  to  seek  an  armistice, 
and  during  the  cessation  of  hostilities  which  ensued 
the  Mexican  commander  sought  to  strengthen  his 
defences. 

The  sham  was  penetrated  by  Kendall,  whose  ex- 
perience while  a  prisoner  in  the  city  of  Mexico  a  few 
years  before  enabled  him  to  detect  the  design.  It 
was  on  the  evening  after  Churubusco  that  he  was 
sitting  in  the  tent  of  Rafael  Semmes,  later  to  be  famous 
as  the  commander  of  the  Alabama,  when  the  emissaries 
of  Santa  Anna  arrived  to  propose  a  truce  to  General 
Scott.  They  were  entertained  for  a  few  minutes  by 
General  Worth  and  then  sent  with  an  escort  to  General 
Scott's  headquarters.  The  instant  they  were  gone, 
Kendall,  says  Semmes,  "with  the  bluntness  and 
frankness  which  characterize  him,  exclaimed:  *It's 
no  use;  we're  humbugged  —  Mcintosh  is  among 
them!'"  While  a  captive,  Kendall  had  come  to  know 
Mcintosh,  a  British  subject,  acting  as  consul  for  the 
English  government,  and  described  as  a  "creature  of 
Santa  Anna."  As  a  neutral  he  aided  in  arranging 
the  terms  of  the  armistice,  but  Kendall  declared  through 
the  whole  interval  that  the  only  object  was  to  gain 
time,  and  the  sequel  proved  him  to  be  correct. 

The  fighting  resumed,  Scott  was  able  after  two 
severe  actions  to  enter  the  city.  At  the  cluster  of 
stone  buildings  once  used  as  a  foundry.  Worth  fought 
the  battle  of  Molino  del  Rey,  and  in  his  despatches 
under  date  of  September  10,  he  mentions  Kendall: 

"I  have  to  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  the  gentle- 
men of  the  staif ,  who  performed  their  duties  with  accustomed 


GEORGE  WILKINS  KENDALL  369 

intelligence  and  bravery  —  G.  W.  Kendall,  Esq.,  of  Louisiana, 
Captain  Wyse  and  Mr.  Hargous,  army  agent;  who  came 
upon  the  field,  volunteered  their  acceptable  services,  and 
conducted  themselves,  in  the  transmission  of  orders,  with 
conspicuous  gallantry." 

Five  days  later  the  steep  and  rocky  hill  with  the 
heavy  stone  walled  fortress  of  Chapultepee  was  stormed, 
an  action  in  which  Worth  had  a  part  with  Kendall 
again  on  his  staff.  The  following  day,  September  14, 
Scott  made  his  formal  entry  into  the  capital  of  Mexico, 
and  the  army  at  last  actually  occupied  the  "Halls 
of  the  Montezumas."  Just  before  the  fighting  ceased, 
in  almost  the  final  episode,  Kendall  for  the  first  time  was 
wounded.  He  was  struck  in  the  knee  by  a  bullet,  and 
again  Worth  mentioned  him  in  his  formal  report, 
saying  under  date  of  September  26 : 

"...  Major  Borland  and  G.  W.  Kendall,  volunteer 
aides-de-camp,  the  latter  wounded,  each  exhibited  habitual 
gallantry,  intelligence  and  devotion." 

The  negotiation  of  the  Treaty  of  Peace  required 
much  time  and  long  before  it  was  concluded  Kendall 
was  back  in  New  Orleans.  With  a  train  of  six  hundred 
dragoons  he  left  the  city  of  Mexico  on  November  1,  and 
reached  his  home  on  November  24,  aboard  a  steamer 
loaded  with  sick  and  wounded  soldiers. 

In  what  has  been  said  there  are  many  intimations 
of  the  difficulties  which  newspaper  men  had  to  over- 
come to  reach  their  journals  with  their  packets  of  news. 
General  Taylor  several  months  after  he  took  the  field 
had  reason  to  refer  to  the  "wholly  inadequate"  means 
of  communication  between  the  Army  of  Occupation 
and  the  city  of  New  Orleans.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  war  he  had  asked  for  a  despatch  vessel,  and  a  "dull 
and  slow  sailer"  was  the  only  ship  placed  entirely  under 


370      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

the  control  of  the  quartermaster's  department.  From 
three  to  five  days  was  the  ordinary  time  between  Point 
Isabel  and  Brazos,  Santiago,  and  New  Orleans  with 
the  news  from  the  army  of  General  Taylor;  from  five 
to  seven  days  was  the  time  of  the  passage  between 
Vera  Cruz  and  New  Orleans  with  the  news  from 
Scott's  army,  the  shorter  time  being  that  of  the  steam- 
ships and  the  slower  that  of  the  sailing  vessels.  In 
order  to  gain  a  few  hours  on  their  competitors,  Lumsden 
and  Kendall  made  plans  for  the  meeting  of  vessels 
some  hours  out  from  New  Orleans  with  a  small  and 
fast  steamer.  This  vessel  they  equipped  as  a  press 
boat,  putting  typesetters  aboard  her  and  all  the 
apparatus  for  setting  despatches.  The  boat  met  the 
incoming  ships  sometimes  at  the  mouth  of  the  Missis- 
sippi and  at  other  times  at  points  off  the  Gulf  coast 
in  the  track  of  approaching  vessels  from  Mexico. 
The  despatches  once  in  the  hands  of  the  compositors, 
they  were  set  up  and  made  ready  for  printing  on  the 
way  up  the  river  to  the  city,  and  upon  arrival  there 
they  were  hurried  to  the  press  and  extras  run  off; 
thus  several  hours  were  often  gained.  It  is  said  that 
upon  one  occasion  a  steamer  was  chartered  for  the 
voyage  across  the  Gulf  from  Vera  Cruz  at  a  cost  of 
$5000,  an  enormous  sum  for  those  days,  and  important 
despatches  were  put  into  type  during  the  passage  to 
New  Orleans;  but  the  details  of  this  exploit  I  have  been 
unable  to  obtain. 

Fully  as  enterprising  were  the  partners  in  their 
organization  of  a  means  of  getting  their  news  across 
the  land.  In  a  country  infested  by  irregular  troops 
the  only  means  of  communication  were  the  heavily 
armed  company  of  dragoons  able  to  stand  off  an  enemy 
in  a  fight  and  the  speedy  and  cunning  express  rider 


GEORGE  WELKINS  KENDALL  371 

who  relied  upon  his  wit  and  his  good  horse  to  elude 
and  distance  pursuers.  The  former  might  be  at 
the  service  of  the  army;  the  latter  must  necessarily 
be  the  reliance  of  the  newspapers.  These  express 
riders  were  employed  by  Kendall  and  Lumsden,  but 
to  secure  their  services  they  had  to  spend  large  sums. 
They  provided  them  with  the  best  mounts  obtainable. 
As  Taylor  advanced  into  the  interior  of  northern 
Mexico  and  distances  became  longer  extra  horses 
were  stationed  at  convenient  points  on  the  relay  system. 
Point  Isabel  was  the  objective  and  as  close  connection 
as  was  possible  was  made  with  the  ships  for  New 
Orleans.  Between  Vera  Cruz  and  the  capital  the 
difficulties  of  the  express  service  were  still  greater.  The 
country  was  infested  with  bandits  who  robbed  and 
murdered  even  wounded  Mexicans,  for  the  nature  of 
the  country  favored  the  guerilla  system.  The  road 
for  miles  from  the  coast  was  through  sand  hills  and 
chaparral,  through  which  progress  in  the  intense  heat 
was  slow;  thence  the  way  led  through  a  tropical  jungle 
where  marauders  might  pounce  upon  stragglers  with 
ease.  At  two  points  in  the  mountains  the  bandits 
gathered  in  numbers  under  several  notorious  leaders. 
Mail  bags  were  occasionally  recovered  where  they 
had  been  left  after  the  robbers  had  examined  their 
contents  and  taken  whatever  of  value  they  were  able 
to  find.  The  despatch  riders  of  General  Scott  were 
cut  off  again  and  again,  and  more  than  once  there 
was  deep  anxiety  in  Washington  owing  to  the  absence 
of  official  news  of  the  army  swallowed  up  in  the  moun- 
tains of  Mexico. 

Quick  and  sure  communication  with  Verz  Cruz 
was  what  Kendall  sought  to  secure  for  the  transmis- 
sion of  his  news  despatches.     Very  probably  the  system 


872       FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

which  he  arranged  was  the  most  regular  and  certain 
of  any  that  was  estabhshed  during  the  American 
campaign,  for  Anderson  several  times  entrusted  his 
own  letters  to  what  he  calls  "Mr.  Kendall's  express." 
The  riders  started  usually  at  midnight,  and,  chosen 
for  their  familiarity  with  the  country  and  for  their 
courage,  they  proceeded  cautiously  and  rapidly  night 
and  day  until  the  end  of  their  ride,  picking  up  fresh 
horses  at  intervals  where  the  correspondent  had  been 
able  to  arrange  for  their  care.  Some  of  the  men  em- 
ployed upon  this  perilous  service  must  have  been  daring 
fellows,  for  several  lost  their  lives  while  trying  to  get 
through  the  ambushes  of  the  guerillas.  Three  in 
succession  were  captured  in  August,  1847,  and  one 
of  these  was  killed  fighting  desperately.  At  least 
one  of  the  couriers  sent  to  the  coast  with  a  small  escort 
by  General  Scott  was  killed  and  his  body  mutilated. 
Thus  the  odds  were  decidedly  against  the  expresses 
of  the  Picayune,  yet  until  the  very  end  of  the  campaign 
these  couriers  continued  to  run  the  gauntlet  with  a 
surprising  degree  of  success.  To  the  riders  for  the 
British  Legation  and  the  British  mercantile  houses 
established  in  the  city  of  Mexico  the  army  and  the 
newspapers  were  also  indebted  in  some  degree.  The 
legation  courier  was  an  old  cavalry  oflficer  who  rode 
post  between  Mexico  City  and  Vera  Cruz.  While 
Kendall  was  at  Jalapa  he  referred  to  Rafael,  the 
celebrated  courier  of  the  British  merchants,  and  de- 
clared that  a  whole  legion  of  robbers  had  received 
license  to  plunder  on  the  roads. 

By  means  of  his  combination  of  courier  and  steam- 
!  boat  service  the  Yankee  journalist  was  able  to  record 
i  a  large  number  of  exclusive  despatches  for  the  Pica- 
\  yune  during  the  two  years  of  the  Mexican  War.     The 


GEORGE  WTLKINS  KENDALL  373 

files  of  the  paper  show  how  complete  was  the  corre- 
spondence from  the  field,  and  comparisons  prove  that 
no  other  paper  covered  the  war  so  comprehensively. 
The  press  of  the  entire  country  teemed  with  citations 
from  the  Picayune  during  1846  and  1847. 

After  the  army  of  General  Scott  had  occupied  the 
city  of  Mexico  and  the  fighting  of  the  war  was  over, 
and  after  the  editor-correspondent,  with  "Major" 
prefixed  to  his  name,  had  returned  to  New  Orleans, 
the  Picayune  still  had  opportunity  to  score  a  great 
"beat"  in  connection  with  the  signing  of  the  Treaty 
of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo  in  February,  1848,  and  this  time 
again  the  War  Department  itself  was  outpaced.  A 
chartered  steamer  brought  a  copy  of  the  Treaty  of 
Peace  from  Vera  Cruz.  Chosen  for  speed  and  prepared 
carefully  in  advance  for  a  fast  trip,  she  left  the  govern- 
ment's messenger  ship  far  astern.  The  paper's  extras 
gave  the  news  to  the  readers  of  New  Orleans,  and  then 
the  pony  express  carried  copies  north  and  east  to  Balti- 
more, so  that  the  Baltimore  Sun  printed  the  treaty, 
sent  copies  to  the  capital,  and  circulated  them  on  the 
streets  of  Washington  before  the  oflScials  of  the  govern- 
ment had  received  the  intelligence. 

Mr.  Kendall  left  for  Europe  soon  after  the  close 
of  the  war,  remaining  several  years  and  spending 
much  of  his  time  in  Paris  making  arrangements  for  the 
illustration  of  his  work  upon  the  battles  which  he  had 
witnessed.  The  volume  appeared  in  quarto  form  and 
was  a  sumptuous  production  for  those  days.  A  few 
of  the  colored  lithographs  have  been  many  times  repro- 
duced, especially  that  of  the  formal  entry  into  the 
captured  capital  of  Mexico.  In  Paris,  Kendall  met 
and  married  Mademoiselle  Adeline  de  Valcourt,  whose 
father  was  with  Napoleon  on  the  retreat  from  Moscow, 


374      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

whose  oldest  brother  was  in  the  Crimea,  and  whose 
youngest  brother  served  in  the  war  of  1870.  Returning 
to  the  United  States  the  joumaUst  removed  to  Texas 
and  estabhshed  himseK  upon  a  large  ranch  in  the  county 
which  now  bears  his  name,  retaining,  however,  his 
interest  in  the  Picayune,  and  doing  much  writing  for 
it.    His  death  occurred  in  1876, 


CHAPTER  XIV 
"COVERING"  THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR     ^ 

"  But  let  me  say  if  those  who  envy  the  war  correspondent  were  once 
brought  into  close  contact  with  all  the  realities  of  war  —  if  they  were 
obliged  to  stand  the  chances  of  getting  their  heads  knocked  off  by  an 
unexpected  shell,  or  bored  through  with  a  minie  ball, — to  stand  their 
chances  of  being  captured  by  the  enemy, — to  live  on  bread  and  water 
and  little  of  it  —  to  sleep  on  the  ground,  or  on  a  sack  of  corn,  or  in  a  bam 
with  the  wind  blowing  a  gale  and  the  snow  whirling  in  drifts,  and  the 
thermometer  shrunk  to  zero, —  and  then  after  the  battle  is  over  and  the 
field  won,  to  walk  among  the  dying  and  the  dead  and  behold  all  the  ghastly 
sights  ...  to  hear  all  around  sighs,  groans,  imprecations  and  prayers  — 
they  would  be  content  to  let  others  become  the  historians  of  war." 

—  Charles  Carleton  Coffin. 

"'American  methods.'  Thus  certain  English  papers  explained  the 
Tribune  in  1870.  We  had  four  years  Civil  War  experience,  while  the 
English,  unless  we  reckon  the  Indian  Mutiny,  had  to  go  back  to  the 
Crimean  War   in  1854  for  precedents  in  war  correspondence." 

—  George  Washburn  Smalley. 

The  most  curious  and  beautiful  memorial  in  the 
world  to  war  correspondents  is  the  combination  of 
arch  and  tower  built  of  the  stones  of  the  mountain 
side  upon  the  summit  of  the  historic  South  Mountain 
in  Maryland,  near  the  scene  of  the  exploits  of  John 
Brown  and  the  battlefield  of  Antietam,  by  George 
Alfred  Townsend,  himself  a  noted  war  correspondent 
in  the  struggle  for  the  Union.  Above  a  Moorish  arch 
he  superimposed  three  Roman  arches,  and  these  he 
flanked  with  a  square  crenellated  tower,  producing  a 
bizarre  and  picturesque  effect.  Niches  shelter  a  carving 
of  a  horse's  head  and  symbolic  statuettes  of  Mercury, 
Electricity  and  Poetry.  Tablets  bear  the  suggestive 
words,  "Speed"  and  "Heed,"  and  quotations  appro- 
priate to  the  art  of  war  correspondence  from  a  great 
variety  of  sources  beginning  with  the  Old  Testament, 


376      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and,  what  is  the  most  striking  feature  of  this  unique 
monument,  there  are  tablets  inscribed  with  the  names 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven  correspondents  and 
war  artists   who  saw  and   described  in  picture  and 
narrative  almost  all  the  events  of  the  four  years  of 
the  war  which  Mommsen  pronounced  the  mightiest 
recorded  in  history. 
A        That  was  the  heroic  age  of  American  newspaper 
y  I  enterprise;  no  war  before  or  since  has  made  such  de- 
!  mands  upon  the  press.     The  campaign  in  the  Crimea, 
the  war  between  France  and  Germany  and  the  Russo- 
Turkish  conflict,   such  expeditions   as   those  for  the 
recovery  of  the  Soudan,  were  short  in  comparison  with 
the  succession  of  sieges,  bombardments,  raids,  marches, 
charges,    stormings,    blockades,    battles    on    sea    and 
land  which  began  with  Fort  Sumter  and  ended  with 
Appomattox.     At  intervals  of  years  European  journals 
:  have  been  called  upon  to  report  sieges  —  Sebastopol, 
Paris,    Plevna,    Ladysmith,    Port   Arthur  —  and    to 
describe    great    battles  —  Solferino,    Sadowa,    Sedan, 
I  Omdurman  —  but    Vicksburg,    Atlanta,     Charleston, 
I  and  Petersburg,  and  Shiloh,  Malvern  Hill,  Fredericks- 
burg, Gettysburg,  Chickamauga,  and  the  Wilderness, 
1  were  but  a  few  of  the  events  of  the  first  magnitude 
\  which  followed  hard    upon  one  another  in  the   long 
'and    desperate    conflict  for   the    preservation  of    the 
RepubHc. 

The  War  of  Secession  was  of  the  first  importance 
in  the  development  of  the  art  of  war  correspondence. 
When  Sumter  was  fired  upon,  April  12,  1861,  there 
were  no  f ^cilities^f or  the  gathering  of  news  at  the 
front  and  its  transmission  to  the  cities  in  which  the 
great  journals  were  published.  American  newspapers 
were  enterprising,  but  for  fifteen  years  they  had  not 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  377 

been  called  upon  to  "cover"  a  war.  The  idea  of  sys- 
tematically reporting  a  struggle  almost  of  continental 
proportions  by  plans  devised  and  elaborated  in  the 
home  oflfice  was  not  then  thought  of.  The  instant 
the  conflict  began  the  papers  organized  upon  the  most 
extensive  scale  for  the  collection  of  war  news.  The 
New  York  dailies,  allotted  large  sums  of  money  for 
the  equipment  and  the  maintenance  of  corps  of  corre- 
spondents and  led  the  country  in  the  collection  and 
distribution  of  war  news,  although  from  time  to  time 
journals  published  in  smaller  places  made  handsome 
scores.  In  the  East,  Washington  was  the  centre  about 
which  the  correspondents  revolved,  and  the  competition 
was  keen  and  sometimes  bitter.  Rivalry  was  not  so 
sharp  in  the  West,  where  at  the  beginning  of  hostiHties 
the  chief  news-gathering  stations  were  St.  Louis, 
Cairo  and  Louisville.  No  city  of  importance  was 
without  at  least  one  newspaper  which  maintained  a 
correspondent  in  the  field,  and  various  journals  in 
Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Chicago,  Cincinnati  and  St. 
Louis  supported  several. 

The  New  York  Herald  built  up,  as  the  war  progressed, 
the  most  complete  organization  in  the  land,  although 
the  Tribune  and  the  Times  also  conducted  extensive 
and  expensive  war  establishments.  All  three  at  the 
outset  were  making  it  a  point  to  anticipate  the  news. 
For  weeks  before  the  first  shot  was  fired  the  Herald 
had  men  distributed  at  strategic  places  through  the 
South,  each  taking  the  temperature  of  his  own  region. 
In  several  instances  it  was  by  narrow  margins  that 
they  escaped  the  clutches  of  the  Confederates  when 
the  bombardment  of  Sumter  began.  The  Richmond 
special  barely  eluded  the  mob  which  meant  to  hang 
him.     At  a  cost  of  half  a  miUion  of  dollars  —  a  pro- 


378      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

digious  sum  for  those  days  —  the  Herald  developed 
and  supported  its  war  department.  Before  many 
months  had  passed  there  were  Herald  wagons  and 
Herald  tents  with  every  army  corps,  and  at  every  battle 
of  consequence  throughout  the  four  years  there  was  a 
Herald  man  taking  notes.  Of  the  legion  of  Herald 
correspondents  five  were  at  one  time  prisoners  in  various 
parts  of  the  South.  Toward  the  end  of  1860  the 
Tribune  began  to  keep  a  half-dozen  men,  usually  two 
at  a  time,  in  and  about  Charleston.  In  1862  that  paper 
had  always  from  five  to  eight  specials  with  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  and  no  fewer  than  a  dozen  west  of 
the  Alleghanies.  The  Times  also  established  a  corre- 
spondent in  the  South  CaroHna  city  in  anticipation  of 
hostilities,  insisting,  however,  that  elaborate  precau- 
tions were  unnecessary,  and  that  an  honest  and  candid 
reporter  would  be  safe  anywhere  beyond  Mason  and 
Dixon's  line,  but  when  the  fort  in  the  harbor  was  as- 
sailed the  Times  representative  was  suddenly  arrested 
and  put  in  jail,  and  upon  his  release  he  had  great 
difficulty  in  making  his  way  to  Washington. 

Scarcely  a  half-score,  perhaps  only  one,  of  the  war 
reporters  of  the  Sixties  remained  in  the  field  through- 
out the  period  of  conflict.  They  were  hardy  men,  but 
their  constitutions  broke  down  under  the  strain  they 
were  called  upon  to  endure.  A  service  of  a  single  year, 
however,  would  exceed  in  length  the  term  of  Forbes 
in  the  war  of  1870,  and  Russell's  time  in  the  Crimea, 
would  only  have  carried  him  from  Bull  Run  to 
Gettysburg  in  the  war  between  the  States.  Few  of 
the  American  correspondents  thought  of  war  reporting 
as  a  life  occupation;  they  took  the  field  for  a  campaign, 
not  for  a  career.  They  could  find  careers  as  war  specials 
only   by   crossing   the   ocean,     George   W     ^^fill'^yT 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  379 

who  scored  heavily  at  Antietam,  did  go  abroad  and 
became  the  instructor  of  Europe  in  the  modem  art 
of  war  reporting.  Many  correspondents  became 
famous  in  other  pursuits  after  the  war  was  over,  as 
Whitelaw  Reid,  who  wrote  celebrated  descriptions 
of  Shiloh  and  Gettysburg,  Edmund  Clarence  Stedman, 
who  once  scribbled  his  messages  by  the  light  of  a 
candle  stuck  in  a  powder  bottle,  and  Henry  Villard, 
who  made  a  desperate  ride  from  Fredericksburg. 

A  few  of  the  specials  were  irresponsible  youngsters 
in  quest  of  adventure,  and  in  this  war,  as  in  almost 
every  other,  there  were  some  accredited  correspondents 
and  others  without  authority  who  traded  upon  the 
information  they  were  able  to  secure  and  the  fabri- 
cations to  which  they  managed  to  give  some  semblance 
of  truth.  But  far  the  greater  number  were  as  loyal 
and  serious  in  their  work  as  were  the  soldiers  who  fought 
the  battles  the  reporters  described.  The  censorship 
at  times  was  unreasonably  severe,  yet,  when  Secre- 
tary of  the  Navy  Welles  was  complaining  that  there 
**  seems  to  be  no  system,  no  arrangement,  for  prompt, 
constant  and  speedy  intelligence,"  the  correspondents 
were  outstripping  the  couriers  of  the  army  and  giving 
first  news  of  great  victories  and  great  defeats  to  the 
government  itself,  as  did  Byington  at  Gettysburg,  and 
Wing,  the  man  Lincoln  kissed,  at  the  battle  of  the 
Wilderness.  Samuel  Wilkeson  of  the  Times  wrote  his 
story  of  Gettysburg  beside  the  body  of  his  son  of  nine- 
teen, who  was  slain  in  the  battle;  Richardson  and 
Browne  of  the  Tribune  and  Colburn  of  the  World  were 
captured  running  the  blockade  at  Vicksburg,  and  their 
escape  from  the  Sahsbury  prison  and  perilous  journey 
north  became  one  of  the  thrilling  tales  of  the  war; 
Osbon,  as  the  signal  officer  of  Farragut,  ran  the  gaunt- 


380      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

let  at  New  Orleans;  Cook,  notebook  in  hand,  sat  aloft 
on  Porter's  flagship  at  the  bombardment  of  Fort 
Fisher;  Conyngham  and  Doyle  marched  with  Sherman 
to  the  sea;  Anderson  was  kept  in  an  iron  dungeon 
in  Texas,  and,  when  released,  with  a  bullet  hole  in  his 
arm,  watched  and  reported  the  battle  of  Spottsylvania; 
Knox  was  "out  mit  Sigel;"  Charles  Carleton  Coffin  — 
the  "Carleton"  of  the  Boston  Journal  —  had  the  dis- 
tinction of  serving  from  the  beginning  to  the  very  end 
of  the  struggle,  and  this  he  could  not  have  done  save  for 
his  long  visits  home;  Carson,  while  riding  with  Grant 
at  Shiloh,  was  killed  by  a  cannon-ball; "  Joe"  McCuUagh 
used  to  print  a  daily  paper  along  the  line  of  march,  and 
royally  the  soldiers  welcomed  the  little  sheet  published 
from  the  correspondent's  wagon;  George  Forrester 
Williams  was  first  a  soldier  and  then  a  correspondent; 
and  **  Gath,"  the  George  Alfred  Townsend  who  built  the 
arch  on  South  Mouritain,  was  one  of  the  pursuers  of 
the  assassin  of  Lincoln. 

In  this  chapter  it  is  possible  only  to  narrate  in  brief 
outline  the  careers  of  a  few  of  the  most  able  of  the 
war  correspondents  whose  names  appear  upon  the 
South  Mountain  arch,  and  to  describe  several  typical 
exploits  which  are  comparable  in  daring  and  resource- 
fulness with  the  performances  of  the  best  of  the  Euro- 
pean specials  who  have  made  war  correspondence  their 
life  work.  As  a  representative  of  the  war  reporter  at 
his  best,  the  story  of  Charles  Carelton  Coffin  has  been 
selected  as  the  first  to  be  told,  because  he  achieved 
a  succession  of  "scoops,"  and,  as  has  been  stated 
above,  was  probably  the  only  one  who  began  at  the 
beg:inning  and  continued  until  the  end  of  the  conflict. 
I  "Carleton"  wrote  precisely  as  the  soldier  fought, 
out  of  a  sense  of  duty  to  his  country.     The  recruiting 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  381 

officers  refused  to  enlist  him  on  account  of  a  lame  heel, 
so  he  went  to  Washington  and  sent  letters  at  his  own 
risk  to  the  Boston  Journal,  His  account  of  the  rout 
of  Bull  Run  was  so  graphic  and  clear  that  he  was 
engaged  by  that  paper  as  a  regular  correspondent. 
Refusing  assistants  and  messengers,  he  became  the 
JournaVs  bureau  and  staff  in  the  field  and  he  did  the 
work  of  a  corps  of  specials  through  the  four  years. 
His  powers  of  toil  were  prodigious.  Several  times  he 
was  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  Never  reckless,  he 
freely  exposed  himself  when  necessary  in  order  to 
see  the  fighting;  placing  no  trust  in  mere  rumors,  he 
once  rode  forty  miles  to  probe  a  report  which  was 
important  if  true.  His  social  qualities  made  him 
welcome  everywhere  and  his  simple  honesty  won  him 
the  confidence  of  most  of  the  commanding  generals. 
He  knew  engineering  and  surveying  and  to  his  topo- 
graphical skill  was  due  some  of  the  clearness  of  his 
descriptions.  His  tall  figure  and  his  equipment  — 
cape  overcoat,  binoculars,  watch,  pocket  compass  and 
note  books  —  were  soon  familiar  to  the  men  both  of 
the  West  and  the  East. 

He  scored  first  when  Grant  captured  Forts  Henry 
and  Donelson.  The  New  York  specials  had  been 
laughing  a  little  at  the  "man  from  Boston."  "Carle- 
ton"  took  the  first  boat  to  Cairo,  expecting  to  write 
his  despatch  on  board,  but  there  were  two  hundred 
maimed  men  on  the  boat,  and  during  the  one  hundred 
and  eighty  miles  of  the  journey  he  carried  water  for 
them  and  held  lanterns  for  the  nurses  and  surgeons. 
Thence  he  proceeded  by  train  all  the  way  to  Chicago, 
writing  in  the  cars,  and  from  that  city  he  sent  a  long 
account  of  what  was  the  first  great  event  of  the  war 
in  the  West,  and  his  story  was  read  by  all  New  England 


382      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

before  the  New  York  papers  received  their  "copy" 
from  their  specials. 

From  the  deck  of  a  gunboat,  "Carleton"  witnessed 
the  naval  battle  in  front  of  Island  No.  10.  Coming 
East  he  watched  the  battle  of  Antietam  and  sent  off 
five  Columns  to  his  paper.  After  another  trip  West, 
he  saw  the  fighting  at  Fredericksburg.  In  April, 
1863,  he  went  South  and  from  the  steamer  Nantasket 
he  looked  on  while  Forts  Sumter  and  Moultrie  "got 
such  a  hammering  as  the  world  never  knew  before." 
Returning  North,  he  found  the  Confederates  had 
crossed  the  Potomac  and  that  the  whole  nation  was 
asking  one  question,  Where  is  Lee.?  The  reporter 
went  on  the  trail,  visiting  Harrisburg,  Washington 
and  Baltimore,  then  Washington  and  Baltimore  again, 
and  then  Frederick  and  Westminster,  coming  on  the 
field  of  ^Gettysburg  in  time  to  see  the  most  terrible 
struggle  of  the  war. 

Nearly  every  episode  of  that  historic  conflict  was 
observed  by  this  now  veteran  correspondent.  Several 
times  he  was  under  fire.  On  the  third  day  of  the  battle 
he  watched  Pickett's  famous  charge,  and  as  the  southern 
commander  retired  he  rode  into  the  wheat  field  and 
made  notes  of  the  carnage  whose  tokens  he  found 
there.  The  battle  over,  it  was  his  duty  to  get  the 
news  to  Boston  with  the  utmost  speed.  The  army 
telegraph  could  not  be  used,  and  the  nearest  railway 
point  was  Westminster,  twenty-eight  miles  away, 
whence  a  freight  train  was  due  to  leave  in  the  early 
evening.  Rain  was  falling  heavily  as  he  started  from 
the  field.  Whitelaw  Reid  was  his  companion.  Covered 
with  mud  and  drenched  to  the  skin,  they  rode  into 
Westminister  five  minutes  before  train  time,  having 
made  the  distance  under  difficult  conditions  in  two 


THE   AMERICAN   CIVIL  WAR  383 

and  a  half  hours.  "Carleton"  managed  to  have  his 
horse  cared  for,  spread  his  blanket  over  the  boiler 
of  the  locomotive  to  dry,  and  stretched  out  on  the 
floor  of  a  bumping  car.  From  Baltimore  next  morning 
he  could  get  barely  a  half-column  through  to  the 
Journal,  but  he  sent  a  despatch  to  Washington  which 
proved  to  be  one  of  the  first  authentic  messages  re- 
ceived by  the  President  and  the  Cabinet  The  special 
took  the  first  train  for  New  York  and  thence  hurried 
on  to  Boston,  wiring  ahead  that  the  biggest  story  of 
the  war  thus  far  was  on  the  way  to  the  office.  As  he 
reached  the  Journal  building  he  found  Newspaper 
Row  packed  with  people  clamoring  for  news.  He 
was  smuggled  into  the  building  and  locked  into  a 
room,  where  he  saw  no  one  but  the  men  handling  his 
"copy"  and  wrote  steadily  until  the  paper  went  to 
press.  As  the  last  sheet  was  delivered  he  threw  him- 
self upon  a  pile  of  newspapers  in  a  corner  and  instantly 
fell  into  the  sleep  of  utter  exhaustion.  At  his  home 
in  the  suburbs  of  Boston  during  the  one  day  which 
he  allowed  himself  for  rest  the  popular  correspondent 
was  cheered  and  serenaded  by  thousands,  and  he  had 
to  repeat  his  story  of  Gettysburg  until  he  started  back 
to  Maryland  and  the  trail  of  the  army  of  Lee.  In  all, 
he  traveled  to  make  this  score  for  his  paper  nearly  a 
thousand  miles,  about  one-sixth  of  which  was  done 
on  horseback. 

Going  West,  he  met  General  Grant  again  and  was 
presented  with  a  pass  signed  "U.  S.  G.,"  which  was 
good  in  all  military  departments  with  transportation 
on  all  military  trains  and  steamers.  As  the  Wilder- 
ness campaign  came  on  Coffin  realized  that  he  would 
be  cut  off  from  the  railway,  the  telegraph,  and  even 
from  communication  by  horse  and  boat.     He  sum- 


384      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

moned  his  liephew,  therefore,  to  act  as  assistant  and 
messenger.  The  first  to  get  out  of  that  densely  wooded 
part  of  Virginia  with  news  was  Wing,  as  will  presently 
be  related,  but  the  second  was  Edmund  Carleton. 
The  youngster  left  for  Fredericksburg,  more  than 
forty  miles  away,  with  orders  to  place  the  alleviation 
of  the  anxiety  of  the  people  of  the  North  before  the 
life  of  his  horse,  but  to  make  sure  that  his  horse  en- 
dured until  he  reached  that  point.  He  overtook  the 
cavalrymen  beariiig  messages  froHt  Grant  to  Washing- 
ton but  their  horses  were  well  fed  and  fat  and  he  spurred 
away  from  them.  Through  the  hottest  day  of  the 
year  he  rode  and  reached  the  railway  just  as  a  train 
loaded  with  wounded  men  was  getting  under  way.  He 
volunteered  as  a  nurse  and  managed  to  get  aboard. 
The  officers  of  the  Sanitary  Commission  gave  him  his 
first  real  meal  for  many  days.  At  Acquia  Creek  he 
took  a  small  steamboat  and  the  next  morning  was  in 
the  capital  before  the  news  bureaus  were  open.  The 
operator  took  his  telegram  with  reluctance,  fearing 
that  news  not  yet  in  the  possession  of  the  government 
must  be  false.  The  first  mail  out  carried  a  great  wad 
of  manuscript  for  the  Journal,  which  was  scoring  once 
more   through   the   enterprise    of   its    correspondent. 

)The  tidings  the  young  assistant  brought  were  the  first 
the  President  and  Secretary  Stanton  had  of  the  later 
movements  of  the  Union  commander.  Getting  back 
to  the  army  was  no  easy  matter;  Stanton  had  ordered 
that  no  one  should  leave  for  the  front  and  refused  to 
make  an  exception  in  this  case,  but  young  Carleton 
got  a  commission  as  a  nurse  from  the  Surgeon-General, 
secreted  himself  on  a  steamer,  marched  three  days 
with  the  Veteran  Invalid  Corps,  and  rejoined  the 
troops  as  the  movement  toward  Petersburg  began. 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  385 

The  people  of  Boston  chose  "Carleton"  to  accom- 
pany their  gift  of  food  for  the  needy  of  Savannah. 
Thus  taken  south  he  was  in  time  for  the  flag  raising 
over  the  re-captured  Fort  Sumter.  Instantly  he  wrote 
his  paper:  "The  old  flag  waves  over  Sumter,  Moultrie, 
and  the  city  of  Charleston.  I  can  see  its  crimson  stripes 
and  fadeless  stars  waving  in  the  warm  sunlight  of  this 
glorious  day."*  How  to  get  the  message  through  was 
the  puzzle.  In  a  few  minutes  the  vessels  were  to  leave 
and  other  specials  confided  their  despatches  to  the 
purser  of  the  despatch  boat.  "Carleton"  scouted 
about  for  the  little  time  available,  selected  a  stranger 
as  his  despatch  bearer,  explained  the  importance  of 
the  mission,  and  instructed  him  thus:  "When  the 
vessel  comes  close  to  the  New  York  wharf  it  probably 
will  touch  and  then  rebound  before  being  made  fast. 
Do  you  stand  ready  on  the  gunwale  and  when  she 
touches  first,  without  waiting  for  the  rebound,  do  you 
leap  and  run  for  your  life  to  the  telegraph  oflfice. 
Send  this  telegram,  and  then  drop  this  letter  in  the 
post.'*  The  scheme  worked.  The  purser  kept  his 
messages  in  his  pocket  until  his  own  duties  were  done. 
At  first  the  telegraphers  refused  the  Boston  despatch, 
declaring  it  to  be  a  plot  to  affect  the  price  of  gold. 
It  created  a  sensation  in  Boston  when  bulletined  by 
the  Journal,  Wired  back  to  New  York  it  was  pro- 
nounced a  canard,  for  was  not  the  boat  in  from  Charles- 
ton, and  where  were  the  other  news  messages  if  there 
was  news?  Presently  the  news  arrived.  By  way  of 
Boston  the  President  and  the  Cabinet  learned  of  the 
happy  issue  of  the  southern  voyage.  Meantime  in 
Charleston  the  correspondent  was  walking  the  deserted 
streets  and  collecting  the  materials  for  one  of  his  best 
descriptive  letters. 


386      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

He  was  in  Virginia  again  in  time  for  the  final  events 
of  the  war.  He  reported  the  battle  of  Five  Forks. 
On  April  3,  he  was  in  Richmond,  the  capital  of  the 
Confederacy,  and  registered  at  the  principal  hotel  as 
"the  first  guest  from  a  foreign  country,  the  United 
States."  When  President  Lincoln  arrived  "Carleton" 
was  at  the  landing  to  meet  him,  and  he  helped  to  escort 
the  Emancipator  through  the  streets  while  the  negroes 
came  running  to  kiss  his  hand.  Thomas  Nast  painted 
his  picture  of  Lincoln  in  Richmond  from  the  descrip- 
tions furnished  by  the  Boston  special.  "Carleton's" 
last  letter  was  dated  April  12,  1865.  The  next  year 
he  went  to  Europe  expecting  again  to  act  as  a  war 
correspondent,  but  when  he  reached  Liverpool  Sadowa 
had  been  fought,  and  the  short  war  between  Austria 
and  Prussia  was  over.  "Carleton,"  who  was  born 
in  1823,  died  thirteen  days  after  the  celebration  of 
his  golden  wedding  in  1898. 

Mention  has  been  made  of  Whitelaw  Reid  as  the 
fellow  rider  of  Charles  Carleton  Coffin  froirTGettys- 
/  burg.  The  late  ambassador  to  the  Court  of  St.  James 
/  had  a  career  as  a  working  journalist  which  was  of  the 
/  first  importance  in  the  development  of  the  American 
newspaper,  coming  to  the  control  of  the  New  York 
Tribune  after  an  apprenticeship  as  a  country  editor, 
a  war  special,  a  Washington  correspondent  and  an 
editorial  writer. 

Franc  B.  Wilkie,  representing  a  Chicago  paper 
and  the  Times  of  New  York,  reached  Cairo  in  April, 
1862,  just  in  time  to  meet  the  only  correspondent  who 
saw  the  battle  of  Shiloh;  he  had  arrived  within  the 
hour  with  the  story  of  that  two  days'  conflict.  The 
Whitelaw  Reid  whom  he  met  was  "a  tall,  slender 
young   man,    with    dark    blue    eyes    and    intelligent. 


9     a 

H     o 


THE  AMERICAN   CIVIL  WAR  387 

handsome  face."  And  he  added:  "His  expression 
suggested  an  escape  from  some  imminent  and  frightful 
danger.  He  was  no  coward,  but  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  apparent  awe  on  that  face."  The  young  news 
writer  had  struggled  out  of  a  sick  bed  to  see  the  battle. 
His  description  filled  ten  columns  of  the  Cincinnati 
Gazette  and  established  his  fame  as  a  war  correspondent 
of  the  first  class. 

He  had  left  his  place  as  the  Gazette's  city  editor 
to  go  into  West  Virginia  at  the  outset  of  the  w^r,  and 
his  first  letters  over  the  signature  "Agate"  were  de 
scriptive  of  that  campaign.  With  intervals  of  leader 
writing  at  the  home  office,  he  was  in  the  field  with 
Rosecrans,  and  recorded  the  Tennessee  campaign  of 
which  Shiloh  was  the  culmination.  For  a  time  he  was 
in  Washington,  where  he  gained  the  confidence  of 
many  eminent  men,  among  them  Horace  Greeley, 
who  was  impressed  by  his  literary  and  executive 
abilities.  At  that  period  his  connection  with  the 
Tribune  began.  His  greatest  achievement  soon  fol-f 
lowed,  the  covering  of  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  for/ 
the  Ohio  paper  and  the  New  York  daily,  and  his  de-j 
scription  of  the  three  days'  fighting  is  generally  regardeJ 
as  one  of  the  most  graphic  pieces  of  war  reporting! 
jWritten  largely  upon  the  field  of  conflict,  the  emotion 
tof  the  writer  was  given  expression  in  the  passages  of 
fervor  and  pathos  which  the  reader  of  the  columns  of 
narrative  will  feel  even  today. 

The  Richardson  alluded  to  above  was  4ibert_D. 
Richardson,  who  called  upon  the  managing  editor  of 
"  the  New  York  Tribune  several  months  before  Sumter 
was  fired  upon  and  asked  to  be  sent  South.  He  was 
told  that  two  correspondents  had  come  home  within 
two  weeks  after  "close  shaves,"  that  the  paper  had 


388      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

six  men  in  the  South  and  the  editor  would  not  be  sur- 
prised at  any  hour  to  receive  a  wire  with  information 
of  the  imprisonment  or  death  of  any  one  of  them. 
But  Richardson  was  made  of  stern  stuff;  he  visited 
Memphis,  Jackson  and  New  Orleans,  sending  his 
letters  alternately  to  various  bankers  of  New  York 
to  be  forwarded  to  his  paper.  The  letters  were  cast 
in  ordinary  business  forms,  but  they  conformed  to  a 
cipher  system  previously  adopted.  In  Mobile  the 
correspondent  found  his  situation  precarious  and  got 
out  of  the  city  by  steamboat  at  once.  A  negro  told 
him  Fort  Sumter  had  "gone  up"  and  he  steamed 
toward  Montgomery  with  the  calliope  playing  a  very 
jubilant  "Dixie."  By  way  of  Atlanta  and  Augusta 
he  actually  went  on  to  Charleston,  and  looked  at 
Fort  Sumter  with  the  South  Carolina  and  Confederate 
flags  flying  over  it,  but  it  was  dangerous  to  stay  long, 
and  by  a  midnight  train  he  proceeded  to  Wilmington, 
where  he  heard  that  Virginia  had  passed  the  ordinance 
of  secession.  He  dared  not  stop  at  Richmond,  and 
hurried  away  on  the  last  train  that  was  permitted  to 
go  through  without  interruption,  reaching  Washington 
from  Acquia  Creek  on  the  last  steamboat  that  made 
a  regular  trip. 

At  once  he  was  sent  by  his  paper  to  the  seat  of  the 
war  in  the  West.  From  the  top  of  a  high  tree  on  the 
bank  of  the  river  between  the  gunboats  and  the  forti- 
fications he  saw  the  bombardment  of  Fort  Henry; 
at  Island  No.  10,  he  took  his  stand  on  the^ufricane^ 
deck  of  the  flag-ship  of  Commodore  Foote.  The 
course  of  one  eight-inch  solid  shot  was  so  erratic  that 
he  described  it  in  detail.  The  ball  penetrated  a  half- 
inch  of  iron  plating  and  a  five-inch  timber  "as  if  they 
were  paper,"  hit  the  deck  and  rebounded,  striking  the 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  389 

roof  of  the  turtle-like  iron-clad,  then  "danced  along 
the  entire  length  of  the  boat,  through  the  cabin,  the 
wardroom,  the  machinery  pantry,  and  at  the  very 
end  fell  and  remained  upon  the  commodore's  writing 
desk."  Splinters  were  blown  into  the  beards  and 
hair  of  several  men  but  no  one  was  hurt.  Life  upon  the 
vessel  was  full  of  novel  interest  to  the  newspaper  man. 
He  occupied  a  little  room  within  six  feet  of  a  thirty- 
two-pounder  which  was  fired  every  fifteen  minutes. 
Yet  so  monotonous  did  the  concussions  become  that 
his  afternoon  naps  were  not  disturbed  by  them.  He 
read,  played  chess,  and  made  notes  of  the  cannonading 
day  after  day  and  night  after  night. 

Richardson  was  at  Cairo  in  May  when  the  corps 
of  correspondents  were  expelled  from  the  army  by 
General  Halleck.  The  general  was  something  of  a 
martinet  and  was  displeased  by  certain  reports  which 
someone  had  forwarded.  He  declared  that  as  a  pro- 
tective measure  against  possible  spies  he  must  expel 
all  unauthorized  hangers-on,  and  refused  to  accept 
any  guarantees  of  prudence  and  loyalty.  Whitelaw 
Reid,  as  chairman  of  the  correspondents'  committee, 
interviewed  the  general.  The  press  men  were  invited 
to  remain  by  others  who  held  commissions  and  who 
had  the  power  to  protect  them,  but  they  believed  them- 
selves to  be  right  and  made  a  dignified  departure  from 
the  military  lines.  Among  the  men  who  thus  departed 
were  some  of  the  ablest  and  most  scrupulous  specials 
of  the  whole  war. 

Again  on  the  Mississippi  in  May  of  1863,  Richard- 
son, with  Junius  T.  Browne,  also  of  the  Tribune,  and 
Richard  T.  Colbum  of  the  New  York  World,  decided 
to  try  to  run  the  Confederate  batteries  at  Vicksburg, 
by  far  the  speediest  way  of  reaching  the  headquarters 


390      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

of  General  Grant,  fifty-five  miles  below  the  beleaguered 
city.  Three  of  every  four  of  the  boats  that  tried 
running  the  gauntlet  had  been  safely  accomplishing 
the  perilous  passage.  At  ten  one  night  two  great 
barges  of  forage  and  provisions  started  down  the 
Mississippi  with  a  small  tug  boat  between  them; 
thus  Grant  for  some  time  had  been  getting  supplies. 
For  three  hours  they  glided  silently  down  stream,  then 
a  rocket  shot  upwards  in  the  blackness  of  a  very  dark 
night,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  in  a  stretch  where  the 
river  was  shaped  like  a  gigantic  letter  S,  the  barges 
were  under  a  terrific  shell  fire.  The  thirty-five  men 
on  board  lay  quietly  under  cover  of  their  hay  bales; 
they  passed  safely  below  the  town,  and  had  run  almost 
the  last  of  the  five  miles  of  batteries,  when  their  captain 
was  killed  at  the  wheel  and  they  were  disabled.  That 
unlucky  shot  had  exploded  the  boiler  of  the  tug,  ripped 
open  the  furnace  and  scattered  glowing  coals  over 
both  barges,  and  the  bales  of  dry  hay  burned  like  tinder. 
The  tug  dropped  to  the  bottom  of  the  river.  Browne 
stood  upon  the  very  highest  bale  of  one  of  the  barges 
and  stared  ashore,  with  the  fiames  outlining  his  face  in 
sharp  relief.  Seeing  the  hopelessness  of  the  situation, 
Richardson  leaped  into  the  river  and  a  hay-bale  was 
rolled  off  to  him.  The  Confederate  pickets  on  both 
sides  of  the  river  were  alert  and  several  small  boats 
put  out  to  pick  up  the  swimmers,  who  were  trying  vainly 
to  hide  under  the  shadow  of  their  bales  of  hay.  When 
a  yawl  was  within  twenty  feet  of  him,  Richardson  tore 
into  small  bits  several  compromising  letters  from  the 
Tribune,  the  paper  hated  most  bitterly  by  every  friend 
of  secession.  Only  sixteen  of  the  thirty-five  who 
started  escaped  unharmed.  The  three  newspaper 
men  were  among  the  number. 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  391 

Colbum  was  soon  exchanged  and  returned  to  Vicks- 
burg  in  time  to  see  the  fall  of  the  city,  but  the  Tribune 
men,  who  made  no  effort  to  conceal  their  identity,  were 
sent  to  Libby  Prison  in  Richmond,  when  after  four 
months  they  were  transferred  to  Castle  Thunder,  and 
finally  in  February,  1864,  they  were  sent  by  the 
Southern  Secretary  of  War  to  the  Condederate  Pen- 
itentiary at  Salisbury,  North  Carolina,  there  to  be 
held  until  the  end  of  the  war  as  hostages  for  the  Southern 
citizens  confined  in  the  North.  For  eight  months 
they  fared  comparatively  well,  but  in  October  ten 
thousand  prisoners  of  war  were  crowded  into  Salisbury. 
The  prison  yard  comprised  four  acres,  and  here,  coatless, 
shoeless  and  shivering  men  burrowed  in  the  earth, 
crept  under  buildings  or  suffered  without  shelter  of 
any  kind.  By  appointment,  William  E.  Davis,  Browne 
and  Richardson  were  placed  in  charge  of  the  nine 
hospitals  inside  the  garrison.  At  the  end  of  November 
there  was  an  insurrection,  checked  in  three  minutes 
with  grape  and  canister.  The  prisoners  became  ex- 
pert in  the  "occult  science  of  tunneling;"  they|  would 
sink  holes  six  or  eight  feet  and  strike  off  horizontally, 
lying  on  their  faces  and  digging  with  case  knives.  So 
many  were  living  in  burrows  in  the  yard  that  the  whole 
four  acres  was  covered  with  hillocks  of  excavated  earth 
and  the  tunnel  dirt  could  therefore  easily  be  concealed, 
but  they  could  not  tunnel  to  Hberty,  for  guards  were 
stationed  far  outside  the  prison  fence. 

Nevertheless,  Richardson,  Browne  and  Davis  man- 
aged to  escape.  Richardson  went  out  as  if  on  a  hospital 
errand,  a  friend  concealed  him  in  a  hay-mow  for  a  day, 
his  fellow  correspondents  joined  him,  and  they  were 
directed  to  a  Union  settlement  fifty  miles  away. 
Negroes  aided  them;  the  first   dwelling  entered   by 


392      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Richardson  in  twenty  months  was  a  slave  cabin. 
On  the  second  night's  tramp  he  was  so  exhausted  that 
he  lay  unconscious  on  the  ground  for  an  hour.  Five 
days  and  nights  they  stayed  in  the  friendly  settlement 
in  the  spurs  of  the  Alleghenies.  Slowly  they  made 
their  way  to  the  north,  wading  streams  waist  deep 
amid  fragments  of  floating  ice,  passing  within  two 
hundred  yards  of  a  Confederate  camp,  and  guided  at 
times  by  ** bushwhackers."  The  famous  "Dan"  Ellis, 
a  Union  guide,  who  had  done  nothing  through  the 
whole  war  but  conduct  loyal  men  to  the  Union  lines, 
aided  them  in  the  dangerous  passage  of  the  Blue 
Ridge.  His  life  was  that  of  a  hero  of  romance,  and 
of  the  four  thousand  men  whom  he  piloted  across  the 
mountains  he  lost  but  one.  He  had  a  little  body  of 
seventy  men ;  single  file  they  climbed  the  hills  at  night. 
WTien  less  than  eighty  miles  from  the  Northern  lines 
their  guide  found  that  a  large  party  of  Confederates 
was  scouting  in  the  vicinity.  The  fugitives  were 
divided  into  two  companies;  the  footmen  turned  back; 
the  horsemen  went  forward  in  an  attempt  to  ride 
through  the  very  centre  of  the  danger  zone. 

"The  Nameless  Heroine"  now  became  the  guide. 
A  young  girl  of  less  than  twenty  years,  who  had  been 
bom  and  bred  just  there  and  knew  every  foot  of  the 
trails,  came  to  the  camp  at  midnight  and  took  command. 
Quietly  and  carefully  she  rode  ahead  of  her  httle  column, 
evading  the  Southern  pickets  and  the  Confederate 
farm  houses,  and  circled  the  camp  of  the  enemy.  After 
seven  miles,  during  which  they  had  caught  but  glimpses 
of  her  and  her  horse  on  ahead,  she  left  her  convoy  in 
a  wood  and  rode  across  a  long  bridge  to  make  inquiries, 
returning  to  report  the  coast  clear.  In  the  gray  dawn 
she  left  them;  every  man  uncovered  as  she  passed 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  393 

down  the  line  and  every  man  longed  to  give  the  cheers 
which  were  known  to  be  unsafe.  After  the  war  Rich- 
ardson made  her  name  known  —  Miss  Melvina  Stevens. 
On  the  twenty-seventh  day  his  horse  was  dying. 
Fifteen  miles  from  Knoxville  he  sighted  the  flag  of  the 
Union  and  stood  silent  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
reverently  to  salute  it.  On  January  13,  1865,  from 
Knoxville  he  sent  his  telegram  to  the  Tribune,  **Out  of 
the  jaws  of  death;  out  of  the  mouth  of  hell." 

On  a  day  in  1898,  just  before  the  outbreak  of  the 
war  between  the  United  States  and  Spain,  Edmund 
Clarence  Stedman  and  Henry  Villard_met  in  a  New 
York  City  street.  The  financier  limped  forward  and 
said  to  the  poet:  *'  Look  here,  E.  C,  you  and  I  must  get 
into  shape  and  put  on  the  harness  as  war  correspond- 
ents." Thirty-seven  years  before  at  Bull  Run, 
Villard,  who  had  climbed  a  tree  to  make  observations 
of  the  progress  of  the  fighting,  dropped  out  of  the 
branches  at  the  feet  of  Stedman  in  a  group  in  which 
were  also  a  Harper^s  Weekly  artist  and  a  Tribune 
correspondent.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  Villard 
was  with  the  New  York  Herald  and  Stedman  with  the 
World.  Henry  Villard,  who  was  born  in  Bavaria, 
had  reported  the  debates  between  Lincoln  and  Douglas 
and  served  as  a  reporter  at  Springfield,  Illinois,  the 
home  city  of  the  future  President,  for  the  Associated 
Press. 

The  day  after  Lincoln  issued  his  call  for  75,000 
men,  James  Gordon  Bennett  commissioned  Villard 
to  carry  a  message  to  the  White  House  assuring 
the  President  that  the  paper  would  in  the  future 
support  every  war  measure,  but  to  reach  Washington 
required  all  the  pluck  and  ingenuity  of  a  very  able 
correspondent.     Usually   the   journey   in   those   days 


394      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

could  be  accomplished  in  ten  or  twelve  hours.  There 
were  five  changes  of  cars, —  the  Hudson,  the  Susque- 
hanna and  the  Delaware  had  to  be  crossed  by  ferry- 
boats, the  street  car  ride  through  Philadelphia  consumed 
an  hour,  and  the  slow  passage  through  Baltimore  was 
made  in  railway  cars  drawn  by  horses.  Villard  waited 
on  the  bank  of  the  Susquehanna  from  three  in  the 
morning  until  seven  and  then  learned  that  during  the 
night  bridges  and  trestles  between  Havre  de  Grace 
and  Baltimore  had  been  burned.  Trains  thus  were 
stopped  by  Southern  sympathizers  to  prevent  troops 
from  the  North  reaching  the  national  capital.  In  a 
small  boat  the  special  was  rowed  to  Havre  de  Grace, 
where  he  waited  several  hours  and  then  started  to 
walk  to  Baltimore.  After  six  miles  he  managed  to 
hire  a  buggy  for  twenty -five  dollars  and  thus  to  reach 
the  city,  when  he  learned  how  the  Sixth  Massachusetts 
Regiment  had  fought  its  way  through  the  streets  on 
April  19.  That  night  he  was  obliged  to  spend  in 
Baltimore,  but  the  next  morning,  having  deposited 
one  hundred  dollars  as  security  for  the  return  of  a 
horse  and  arranged  to  pay  five  dollars  a  day  and  all 
expenses  until  the  animal  was  again  in  his  owner's 
hands,  he  started  to  ride  the  thirty  miles  to  Washing- 
ton, where  he  arrived  in  the  evening,  and  found  the 
city  without  telegraph  wires  and  mail  service,  isolated 
from  the  rest  of  the  country. 

The  young  adventurer  decided  to  become  a  war 
correspondent  and  began  to  study  books  on  tactics 
and  strategy.  .He  witnessed  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  and 
in  connection  with  that  first  battle  he  began  his  record 
of  **  beats."  At  five  in  the  morning  he  rode  into  the 
deserted  streets  of  Washington,  having  thought  out 
the  outline  of  his  story  during  his  ride.     In  six  hxmdred 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  395 

words  he  stated  clearly  and  succinctly  the  facts,  and 
then,  after  a  few  hours  of  sleep,  he  sent  away  a  longer 
account.  The  earlier  telegram  furnished  New  York 
with  its  first  tidings  of  the  disaster  and  created  a 
sensation;  multitudes  of  readers  discredited  the  story 
of  the  rout  of  the  Northern  troops.  As  the  corre- 
spondent wrote  the  longer  article,  relays  of  messenger 
boys  ran  with  the  sheets  one  at  a  time  to  place  them 
on  the  wires.  To  the  disgust  of  the  writer,  large  excis- 
ions were  made  in  the  New  York  oflSces  of  the  criticism 
which  he  had  expressed  of  certain  New  York  regiments. 

Going  West,  Villard  cultivated  an  agreeable  ac- 
quaintance with  Sherman,  which  was  in  itself  an 
exploit,  for  that  commander  regarded  correspondents  as 
a  nuisance,  and  by  paying  liberally  for  them  he  managed 
to  secure  copies  of  Southern  papers,  from  which,  with  his 
own  comments,  he  made  budgets  of  news  that  became 
a  feature  of  the  Herald.  When  Nashville  was  occupied 
Villard  hurried  to  the  office  of  the  leading  daily  and 
secured  three  weeks  of  back  numbers  and  they  proved 
to  be  a  mine  of  good  ''  copy".  The  battle  of  Shiloh 
over,  he  went  from  commander  to  commander  gathering 
details  and  then  took  a  steamer  for  Cairo,  writing  his 
despatch  on  the  way.  After  the  battle  of  Perry ville 
he  went  over  the  field  and  counted  more  than  five 
hundred  Confederate  dead,  sending  his  account  to 
Louisville  with  a  surgeon  on  an  ambulance  train. 

Villard  now  came  East  to  take  the  place  which 
Smalley  had  left  as  chief  correspondent  of  the  Tribuney 
with  Washington  as  the  centre  for  the  transmission 
of  the  war  news,  and  with  assistants,  horses  and  cam- 
paign equipments  at  his  command.  The  battle  of 
Fredericksburg  afforded  him  an  opportunity  which 
he  promptly  seized,  leaving  at  three  in  the  morning 


396      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

for  Acquia  Creek  upon  a  ride  which  he  pronounced 
in  his  **  Memoirs"  the  most  terrible  of  his  Hfe.  The 
night  was  so  dark  that  he  could  not  see  beyond  his 
horse's  head;  nearly  all  the  way  he  had  to  flounder 
through  a  **  sea  of  mire  "  one  and  two  feet  deep.  In 
places  the  logs  of  the  corduroy  road  were  loose,  which 
made  the  ride  doubly  perilous.  Four  times  he  fell 
and  once  he  was  thrown  into  the  morass;  the  instinct 
of  the  horse  guided  him  most  of  the  way.  Reaching 
Acquia  Creek  at  nine  he  learned  that  General  Burnside 
had  managed  to  get  orders  through  that  no  oflScer  or 
soldier,  no  civilian,  and  especially  no  press  correspond- 
ent, should  be  permitted  to  go  North  without  a  special 
permit  from  headquarters !  Also  to  his  disgust,  Charles 
Carleton  Coffin  soon  turned  up,  and  he  had  counted 
upon  going  through  alone.  In  the  end  he  defied  the 
general  and  circumvented  his  rival.  He  induced 
two  negroes  to  row  him  to  a  steam  freight-propeller 
and  after  a  parley  with  the  captain  he  managed  to 
cHmb  to  the  deck,  when  the  oarsmen,  according  to 
previous  orders,  instantly  pushed  off,  leaving  their 
passenger  on  board.  He  made  shift  to  show  his  regular 
army  pass  and  the  captain  did  not  know  of  the  special 
orders  of  the  morning.  The  boat  was  vexingly  slow, 
but  he  wrote  his  story  on  the  river,  only  to  find  when 
he  arrived  in  Washington  at  eight  in  the  evening  that 
Secretary  Stanton  had  ordered  the  censor  to  permit  no 
news  from  Fredericksburg  to  go.  Villard  sent  his 
article  by  special  messenger  on  the  night  train.  Even 
at  that,  the  paper  feared  to  take  the  responsibility  of 
announcing  a  great  defeat  and  suppressed  many  details. 
In  the  attack  on  Charleston  the  Tribune  special 
was  the  only  correspondent  on  board  the  flag  ship  of 
Admiral  Dupont,  and  while  the  fighting  above  the 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  397 

clouds  was  going  on  at  Chattanooga,  Villard  was  with 
the  little  group  of  watchers,  including  the  command- 
ing general  and  his  staff,  who  Hstened,  racked  with 
anxiety,  to  the  musketry  volleys  which  told  of  the 
battle,  the  view  of  ^which  was  shut  from  them  by  the 
intervening  mists.  V.Invahded  for  a  time,  Villard  was 
in  the  field  again  with  Grant  in  the  Wilderness,  and 
certainly  was  one  of  the  first  to  reach  the  capital  with 
authentic  news  of  the  fighting/)  He  then  followed  the 
siege  of  Petersburg  until  the  end  of  June,  1864.  After 
a  visit  to  Germany  he  landed  in  Boston  and  heard 
all  at  once  of  the  fall  of  Richmond,  the  surrender  of 
Lee  and  the  assassination  of  Lincoln.  Like  Smalley 
and  Coflfin,  he  started  for  Europe  to  cover  the  War 
of  1866,  and  found  it  all  over  when  he  reached  Liverpool. 
Of  the  work  done  by  this  correspondent  Admiral 
Rodgers  said:  "  His  personal  gallantry  and  unhesitating 
devotion  in  the  exercise  of  his  professional  duty  won 
for  him  the  respect  and  confidence  of  all."  He  had 
started  life  in  the  United  States  as  a  poor  boy,  ignorant 
of  English,  and  after  the  war  he  began  a  career  which  is 
yet  almost  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  railroad  finance. 
Edmund  Clarence  Stedman,  known  now  to  the 
world  as  ajpoet,  years  afteFtEe  end  of  the  war  recalled 
in  these  terms  the  early  days  of  his  work  for  the  press: 
"Recollections  of  my  service  with  the  army  of  the 
Potomac  as  a  reporter  often  seem  like  those  of  a  play, 
a  stirring  romance,  or  a  memorable  dream.  .  .  .  But 
at  times  I  am  again  a  young  and  hght-hearted  news- 
paper man,  doubtless  sufficiently  hght  of  head  withal; 
a  war  correspondent  in  the  Virginia  campaign,  longing 
"to^chronicle  victories,  too  often  forced  to  make  the 
best  of  needless  defeats;  always  eager  to  beat  my  able 
and  friendly  rivals  of  the  newspaper  corps." 


398      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Charles  A.  Dana,  then  of  the  Tribune,  had  given 
him  his  first  assignment,  to  cover  the  death  and  funeral 
of  Washington  Irving.  On  the  evening  of  April  13, 
1861,  the  World  had  printed  the  poem  "  Sumter  "  which 
he  had  written  that  morning.  He  was  among  the  first 
to  reach  Washington  and  was  there  through  the  dark 
days  following  the  Baltimore  riot,  but  he  secured  his 
standing  as  a  reporter  by  his  account  of  Bull  Run. 
He  rode  into  Washington  at  two  o'clock  on  the  morning 
after  the  battle,  with  Uriah  Painter  of  the  Philadelphia 
Inquirer,  and  the  following  day  the  latter's  report 
appeared  in  his  paper.  A  day  later  there  was  printed 
in  the  World  "a  logical,  comprehensive  and  definitive 
story"  upon  which  Stedman  had  worked  all  night 
on  his  way  to  New  York  and  all  day  in  the  offices  of 
the  paper.  During  the  battle  itself  Painter  had  seen 
the  young  poet  and  correspondent  "  waving  the  stand- 
ard of  the  Massachusetts  Fifth  and  pleading  with 
the  men  to  rally  about  him."  Richard  Grant  White 
afterward  congratulated  Stedman  as  "the  man  who 
restored  a  regiment  their  colors." 

For  months  Stedman  was  in  the  saddle  day  after 
day  scouting  for  news.  On  October  25,  he  rode  forty 
miles  investigating  the  Ball's  Bluff  disaster,  the  next 
day  he  covered  the  forty-six  miles  to  the  capital, 
and  on  the  third  day,  with  his  head  burning  with  fever 
and  tied  in  towels,  he  wrote  the  six  columns  which  are 
the  only  accurate  and  complete  account  of  the  event. 
Although  his  regular  connection  with  the  World  ended 
with  the  year,  he  later  spent  some  time  with  McClellan, 
and  had  one  adventure  which  well  illustrates  his 
"  light-heartedness."  Edwin  H.  House,  who  after 
the  war  became  an  authority  on  Japan,  years  later 
referred  to  the  incident  in  a  gossippy  letter  to  Stedman 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  399 

in  which  he  asked:  "Do  you  remember  when  we  sat 
writing  by  the  hght  of  a  candle  stuck  in  a  broken  bottle 
which  was  more  than  half  full  of  powder?" 

In  the  opinion  of  Henry  Villard  the  best  piece  of 
work  produced  by  a  war  correspondent  in  the  Civil 
War  was  the  remarkable  description  of  Antietam  by 
QeorgeW.  Smalley.  A  letter  from  Wendell  Phillips 
to  Sydney  Howard  Gay,  Dana's  assistant  upon  the 
Tribune,  procured  for  Smalley  his  first  commission 
for  that  paper.  ^  He  saw  the  capture  of  Fort  Pulaski 
and  spent  some  time  with  Fremont  in  the  Shenadoah 
Valley.  JThen  on  a  "tip"  from  a  friendly  oflScer  he 
rode  out  of  Washington  one  afternoon,  equipped  with 
a  mackintosh  and  a  tooth-brush,  expecting  to  be  gone 
two  days  at  the  longest.  He  was  out  for  six  weeks 
and  in  that  time  witnessed  the  battles  of  South  Moun- 
tain and  Antietam. 

For  most  of  two  days  Smalley  watched  the  pictur- 
esque performance  at  South  Mountain  by  the  side  of 
General  McClellan.  The  afternoon  before  Antietam 
he  joined  "Fighting  Joe"  Hooker  and  rode  with  that 
general  upon  a  reconnoitering  expedition.  That  night 
he  slept  on  the  ground  with  his  horse's  bridle  wound 
about  his  arm.  In  the  morning  as  soon  as  the  soldiers 
could  see  the  sights  of  their  rifles  the  battle  began. 
Riding  with  Hooker  on  the  firing  fine,  Smalley  bore 
several  messages  for  him  during  the  hardest  of  the 
fighting.  To  the  colonel  of  a  wavering  regiment  he 
carried  an  order  to  move  his  men  to  the  front  and  keep 
them  there.  "Who  are  you?"  asked  the  colonel. 
"The  order  is  General  Hooker's,"  was  the  reply. 
"  It  must  come  to  me  from  a  staff  oflScer  or  a  brigade 
commander."  "Very  good,"  said  Smalley.  "I  will 
report  to  General  Hooker  that  you  decline  to  obey." 


400      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

And  the  colonel  exclaimed:  "Oh,  for  God's  sake, 
don't  do  that.  I  had  rather  face  the  Rebels  than 
Hooker,"  and  the  regiment  was  moved  forward. 
Just  after  the  correspondent  had  called  Hooker's 
attention  to  the  fact  that  he  was  allowing  himself 
to  be  a  most  conspicuous  mark  for  the  enemy  and  that 
their  bullets  were  following  him  wherever  he  rode, 
the  general  was  hit.  Through  the  whole  battle  Smalley 
was  under  fire;  twice  his  horse  was  hit,  and  twice  his 
clothing  was  cut  by  bullets. 

Exhausted  as  he  was,  the  duty  of  getting  the  news 
to  his  paper  now  confronted  him.  For  several  hours 
he  visited  camp  after  camp  and  listened  to  the  execra- 
tions of  the  soldiers  and  conferred  with  his  Tribune 
confreres.  At  nine  he  started  for  Frederick,  thirty 
miles  distant,  commandeering  the  horse  of  a  colleague. 
For  six  hours  he  was  in  the  saddle  and  most  of  the 
time  he  slept,  so  utterly  wearied  was  he.  Not  until 
seven  in  the  morning  was  he  able  to  find  the  telegraph 
operator  in  charge  of  this,  the  only  available  office. 
Argument  was  required  to  induce  the  telegrapher  to 
try  to  get  a  short  message  through.  Seated  upon  a 
log  beside  the  door  of  the  little  building,  Smalley  wrote 
his  despatch,  handing  sheet  after  sheet  to  the  operator, 
until  a  column,  as  he  supposed,  had  been  sent  to  New 
York;  but  that  message  was  sent  instead,  upon  the 
initiative  of  the  telegrapher,  to  Washington,  and,  says 
Smalley,  "such  was  the  disorder  then  prevaihng  that 
it  was  the  first  news,  or  perhaps  only  the  first  coherent 
account  of  the  battle,  which  reached  there  and  the 
President."  All  that  dc,  ^  the  news  was  kept  under 
cover  at  the  capital,  but  that  night  it  was  released 
and  wired  on  to  New  York  in  time  for  the  Tribune  of 
the  next  morning. 


Photo,  by  W.  &  D.  Downey,  London 
GEORGE   WASHBURN   SMALLEY 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  401 

Smalley  had  depended  upon  getting  a  train  from 
Frederick  to  Baltimore,  but  there  was  none,  and,  as 
he  saw  oflficial  after  official,  he  could  get  no  definite 
replies  to  his  questions  and  pleas.  A  train  might 
go  at  any  instant  and  there  might  be  no  train  at  all. 
No  special  could  go  out  without  a  military  warrant. 
The  War  Department  was  wired  to  for  a  warrant,  but 
no  answer  was  received.  At  last  the  almost  desperate 
correspondent  got  away  on  a  mixed  train  which  brought 
him  to  Baltimore  just  ten  minutes  before  the  express 
from  Washington  for  New  York  came  into  the  station. 
In  those  few  minutes  he  had  to  decide  whether  to  risk 
his  story  upon  the  wires  or  to  go  on  himself  to  make  i 
sure  that  the  paper  got  the  complete  narrative  for  which 
he  supposed  his  short  despatch  from  Frederick  had 
prepared  the  editors.  Just  one  curt  question  at  the 
telegraph  office  settled  the  matter.  Not  a  promise  of 
any  kind  could  he  secure;  all  messages  were  accepted 
at  the  sender's  risk  and  the  chances  of  their  getting 
through  with  any  degree  of  celerity  were  scant.  \ 

The  indomitable  reporter  took  the  train.  The  cars 
were  lighted  by  oil  lamps,  hung  near  the  ceiling  and 
dimly  burning,  one  at  each  end  of  the  coaches,  but  at 
nine  that  evening,  by  the  ffickering  light  of  a  single 
lamp,  Smalley  began  to  write  with  pencil  "  the  remark- 
able description"  which  Henry  Villard  praised.  The 
message  was  finished  by  the  cold  Hght  of  the  new  day  j 
as  the  train  rolled  into  Jersey  City,  and,  writes  Smalley, 
"  The  office  knew  the  despatch  was  coming,  compositors 
were  waiting,  and  at  six  the  worst  piece  of  manuscript 
the  oldest  of  them  had  ever  seen  was  put  into  their 
hands.  And  somewhere  near  the  breakfast  hour  the 
Tribune  issued  an  extra  with  six  columns  about  Antie- 
tam."     By  the  night  train  he  started  back  to  Washing- 


402      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

ton,  but  he  had  "  been  sleeping  on  Virginia  soil,  think- 
ing himself  lucky  if  he  could  borrow  two  rails  from  a 
fence  to  sleep  between,"  and  he  was  soon  invalided 
home  with  camp  fever. 

After  some  months  of  editorial  writing  and  while 
the  whole  country  was  plunged  in  gloom  because  of 
Chancellorsville,  Smalley  was  sent  to  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  on  a  mission  of  inquiry  for  the  Tribune, 
Lincoln  and  all  the  North  were  looking  for  a  command- 
ing oflficer  and  public  opinion  was  divided  greatly. 
The  special  went  from  general  to  general  and  from 
corps  to  corps,  and  talked  with  men  of  all  ranks  and 
of  no  rank,  telling  them  all  that  the  results  of  his 
inquiry  would  appear  in  his  paper,  but  the  story  was 
never  published.  The  army,  rightly  or  wrongly,  had 
lost  faith  in  Hooker.  The  man  most  often  named 
was  Meade,  and  when  he  interviewed  that  general, 
Smalley  found  him  "a  model  of  military  discretion." 
It  was  decided  that  the  truth  would  harm  the  cause 
and  therefore  the  article  was  suppressed,  but  Smalley 
regarded  Gettysburg  as  the  vindication  of  his  judgment 
and  the  sagacity  of  his  friends. 

(  One  of  the  greatest  news  achievements  of  the  war 
was  that  of  B.  S.  Osbon  whose  story  of  the  operations 
of  Farragut  at  New  Orleans  filled  three  solid  pages 
of  the  Herald  and  whose  sketches  of  the  running  of 
the  batteries  covered  three  pages  of  Harper^s  Weekly, 
Osbon,  whose  name  often  was  misspelled  as  Osboni, 
had  had  a  life  at  sea  as  full  of  adventures  as  a  novel. 
At  the  founding  of  the  World  he  was  the  first  reporter 
engaged;  Frederick  Hudson,  the  managing  editor, 
employed  him  to  cover  marine  news.  On  the  second 
attempt  to  relieve  Fort  Sumter,  Osbon  went  on  the 
little  revenue  cutter  Harriet  Lane  as  clerk  and  signal 


THE   AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  403 

officer,  the  only  newspaper  man  in  the  fleet.  He 
heard  the  first  shot  of  the  great  war  and  witnessed 
the  bombardment  and  capitulation  of  the  fort.  From 
the  lips  of  Major  Anderson  himself  he  wrote  the  account 
of  that  historic  event,  and  came  North  with  a  "  beat " 
for  his  paper,  to  find  the  city  and  the  nation  ablaze 
with  excitement.  A  crowd  forced  its  way  into  the 
World  office  and  compelled  Osbon  to  mount  a  counter 
and  relate  the  story  of  Suniter.  He  was  a  hero  if 
for  no  other  reason  than  that  he  had  seen  the  bombard- 
mentj)  Frederick  Hudson  became  managing  editor 
of  the  Herald  and  Osbon  joined  his  staff.  The  Secre- 
tary of  the  Navy  gave  him  a  kind  of  roving  commis- 
sion to  "accompany  naval  expeditions  in  any  staff 
capacity  to  which  the  commanders  might  appoint 
him  provided  they  did  not  interfere  with  the  regulations 
of  the  Navy."  On  the  expedition  to  Port  Royal  a  shell 
ruined  his  luxuriant  whiskers.  Again  he  brought  the 
Herald  a  "  scoop  "  and  supplied  Harper's  with  sketches. 
Admiral  Farragut  appointed  Osbon  signal  officer, 
and  in  that  position  he  made  every  signal  that  con- 
trolled the  Western  Gulf  Blockading  Squadron.  This 
was  a  great  advantage  to  the  correspondent,  for  it 
brought  him  into  close  touch  with  the  flag  officer  and 
gave  him  complete  information  of  every  movement 
of  the  vessels.  Running  the  gauntlet  to  New  Orleans 
meant  the  passing  of  two  strong  forts  mounting  two 
hundred  guns,  a  chain  barrier  in  which  a  narrow  opening 
had  been  cleared,  a  dozen  Confederate  gunboats,  a 
ram  or  two,  some  old  hulks  and  countless  fire  rafts; 
and  the  very  swift  opposing  current  had  also  to  be 
considered.  On  the  night  selected  the  ships  took  their 
designated  anchorages  without  noise  or  display.  Pre- 
cisely at  one  in  the  morning  all  hands  were  called. 


404      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Says  Osbon:  "It  was  a  solemn  time.  On  the  stroke 
of  two  with  my  own  hands  I  hoisted  to  the  mizzen 
peak  a  pair  of  red  lanterns,  which  was  the  signal  to 
get  under  way.  The  first  ship  was  just  at  the  chain 
when  a  blaze  of  Kght  and  a  roar  from  the  fort  told 
we  had  been  discovered."  Amid  the  screaming  of 
shot  and  shell  the  vessels  forced  their  way  through 
the  opening,  and  Osbon  hoisted  "the  largest  Star 
Spangled  Banner  at  the  peak  and  decked  the  fore  and 
main  masts  in  the  same  way."  In  a  few  minutes, 
with  "death  and  destruction  everywhere,"  the  men's 
faces  covered  with  powder-black  and  daubed  with 
blood,  oflficers  and  all  "looked  like  a  lot  of  demons 
in  a  wild  inferno."  The  night  was  black  and  the  smoke 
blinding.  Cut  ropes  were  swinging  and  splinters 
flying.  "  The  only  thing  we  saw  clearly,"  says  Osbon, 
"  was  the  flash  of  guns  in  our  faces  and  the  havoc  on 
our  own  ship." 

Farragut  had  climbed  to  a  point  high  in  the  mizzen 
rigging  where  he  could  watch  above  the  smoke.  "  With 
his  feet  on  the  ratlines  and  his  back  against  the  shrouds, 
he  stood  there  as  cool  and  undisturbed  as  if  leaning 
against  a  mantel  in  his  own  home."  Several  times 
Osbon  carried  orders  for  him.  As  the  signal  officer 
saw  shot  nearing  the  commander,  he  begged  him  to 
come  down,  and  presently  he  did  descend.  Barely 
had  he  left  the  place  when  a  shell  exploded  in  the 
rigging  and  cut  away  the  ratlines  on  which  he  had 
been  standing.  Years  after  in  Paris  Mrs.  Farragut 
showed  Osbon  much  attention  and  declared  he  had 
saved  the  life  of  her  husband. 

Osbon  had  a  watch  lashed  to  his  sleeve  and  the 
notebook  in  which  he  kept  his  records  as  clerk  for  the 
flag  officer  and  as  correspondent  for  the  Herald.    At 


THE   AMERICAN   CIVIL  WAR  405 

exactly  4.15,  with  Fort  St.  Philip  on  one  hand  and  a 
big  fire  raft  on  the  other,  while  her  batteries  were 
pounding  away  at  the  fortifications,  the  ship  went 
aground.  In  that  instant  of  crisis  a  ram  shoved  a 
raft  under  the  port  quarter  and  the  vessel  took  fire. 
The  next  moment  a  shell  exploded  on  the  berth  deck 
and  another  fire  started.  Only  desperate  measures 
could  save  the  ship.  And  Osbon  was  the  man  for  the 
emergency,  as  witness  the  story  told  by  M.  F.  Tobin 
in  his  book  on  Admiral  Dewey,  and  re-told  by  Osbon 
himself,  the  story  of  "Osbon's  prayer."     Says  Tobin: 

"The  late  Admiral  Boggs  used  to  delight  in  relating  a 
story  told  him  by  Farragut,  called  *Osbon's  prayer.*  Far- 
ragut,  seeing  an  oflScer  kneeling  by  the  poop-deck  shear 
called  out:  *Come,  sir,  this  is  no  time  for  prayer.*  The 
oflScer  addressed  was  B.  S.  Osbon,  Farragut*s  signal  clerk, 
who,  seeing  the  great  peril  the  ship  was  in,  put  an  overcoat 
that  lay  in  the  signal  locker  over  his  head  to  prevent  the 
flames  from  burning  him,  and  rolled  three  twenty-pound 
rifle  shells  up  under  the  curling  flames,  deftly  uncapped 
them,  and  just  as  Farragut  chided  him,  threw  them  over  the 
side  into  the  fire-raft,  and  in  five  seconds  they  had  exploded, 
tearing  out  the  sides  of  the  raft.  After  the  explosion  of  the 
shells  water  rushed  into  the  raft  and  she  sank.** 

The  kneeling  Osbon  thus  destroyed  the  scow  and 
scared  away  a  small  ironclad  creeping  toward  them. 
The  hose  was  got  out  and  the  flames  were  extinguished 
and  then  the  engineers  got  the  ship  off  the  bottom. 
It  had  been  a  "close  call."  All  the  ships  but  three 
passed  the  forts.  At  five  they  anchored.  Osbon  made 
the  signal  to  report  casualties  and  Farragut  stood  by 
and  watched  the  figures  as  he  noted  them.  As  they 
went  on  to  the  city  they  met  steamers  laden  with 
blazing  cotton  drifting  down  the  river. 

Despatches  for  Washington  were  sent  by  Farragut 


406      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

on  the  small  Cayuga  and  Osbon  was  permitted  to  sail 
aboard  her.  As  the  despatch  boat  left  the  flagship, 
the  sailors  manned  the  rigging  of  the  Hartford  and  gave 
the  newspaper  man  and  signal  officer  three  resounding 
cheers,  and  as  she  went  down  stream  every  ship  was 
thus  manned  and  again  and  again  this  compliment 
was  paid  the  correspondent.  The  Cayuga  found 
Lincoln  and  Secretary  Stanton  off  Fortress  Monroe 
and  the  President  listened  to  the  details  of  the  capture 
of  the  Southern  metropolis.  He  sent  them  on  to 
Baltimore  on  the  mail  boat,  and  the  day  after  his 
arrival  there  Osbon  was  in  New  York.  Short  des- 
patches had  contained  all  the  facts  the  North  knew 
about  the  exploit  of  Farragut.  The  long  account 
written  by  Osbon  was  the  only  story  written  by  a 
man  who  had  actually  made  the  passage  up  the 
Mississippi. 

The  correspondent  who  was  kissed  by  President 
Lincoln  was  Henry  E.  Wing,  for  many  years  a  Metho- 
dist clergyman  and  now  living  in  South  Norwalk, 
Connecticut,  who  has  told  the  story  in  a  booklet 
recently  published.  Such  manifestations  of  emotion 
are  recorded  so  infrequently  of  the  war  President 
that  this  was  almost  a  unique  incident.  Confirmatory 
evidence  is  suppHed  in  the  "Diary  of  Gideon  Welles," 
the  Secretary  of  the  Navy.  For  almost  a  week  the 
country  had  been  without  news  from  Grant,  who  had 
begun  his  Wilderness  campaign  with  the  dehberate 
intention  that  for  a  few  days  his  communications  with 
Washington  should  be  severed.  The  country  was  on 
tiptoe  with  excitement;  what  had  become  of  the  100,000 
men  who  had  disappeared  so  dramatically?  After 
the  first  day's  fighting  the  Tribune  correspondents 
met  in  conference,  and  young  Wing  was  chosen  for 


THE  AMERICAN  CIVIL  WAR  407 

the  difficult  venture  of  taking  out  the  news.  Grant 
himself  entrusted  the  reporter  with  a  message  for  the 
President,  — "  Tell  him  from  me  that,  whatever 
happens,  there  will  be  no  turning  back." 

At  dawn  Wing  started.  His  correspondent's  outfit 
was  exchanged  for  a  "  Butternut "  suit  and  "  brogans;" 
every  scrap  of  memoranda  was  left  behind.  Mosby's 
men  got  from  him  "the  good  news  of  a  victory  for 
the  South."  Two  of  Mosby's  guerillas  escorted  the 
disguised  correspondent  through  the  woods.  His 
gallant  horse  carried  him  across  a  river  amid  a  volley 
of  shots;  the  horse  was  left  in  a  covert  in  the  woods 
with  an  abundance  of  oats  and  a  promise  to  return  — 
a  promise  which  was  faithfully  kept.  Pursuers  passed 
him,  —  but  they  were  looking  for  a  mounted  man, 
not  a  pedestrian.  For  miles  he  tramped  the  railroad 
ties.  At  Manassas  Junction  he  was  detained  several 
hours  in  a  Confederate  cavalry  camp,  sneaking  away 
at  dusk  and  hustling  down  the  track  six  miles  to  Bull 
Run,  where  he  entered  the  Union  lines.  No  other 
reporter  had  come  through,  but  the  nearest  public 
telegraph  station  was  twenty  miles  away,  and  that 
distance  had  to  be  covered  in  three  hours  if  the  "  scoop  " 
was  to  reach  New  York,  for  the  office  closed  at  midnight. 
For  a  horse  and  guide  one  thousand  dollars  was  offered, 
and  for  a  hand  car  and  a  man  to  help  run  it  five  hun- 
dred dollars.  The  hand  cars  belonged  to  the  govern- 
ment, as  did  the  military  telegraph,  and  as  a  final  resort 
Wing  sent  a  "  feeler  "  over  that  official  wire,  to  his  friend 
Charles  A.  Dana,  then  Assistant  Secretary  of  War. 
Back  came  the  curt  query,  "Where  is  Grant?"  Then 
Wing  knew  that  not  even  Washington  had  tidings  from 
the  army.  He  undertook  negotiations.  Let  him  send 
one  hundred  words  to  the  Tribune  and  he  would  tell  the 


408      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Department  all  he  knew.  Threats  of  arrest  sizzled  over 
the  wire  from  Secretary  Stanton,  but  the  President  came 
in  and  at  once  accepted  the  terms,  and  "  standing  by 
the  operator  at  Union  Mills  "  Wing  "  dictated  the  half- 
column  despatch  which  appeared  in  the  Tribune  on 
the  morning  of  Saturday,  May  7,  1864."  A  locomotive 
was  sent  out  from  Washington,  and  at  two  in  the 
morning  Wing  reached  the  White  House.  His  appear- 
ance was  very  disreputable,  but  his  voice  identified 
him  to  Secretary  Welles.  For  a  half-hour  with  a  map 
before  them  he  described  the  movements  of  the  troops. 
At  length  alone  with  Lincoln,  he  repeated  the  personal 
message  from  Grant.  There  had  been  so  many  turnings 
back,  but  Grant  assured  his  chief  that  this  was  indeed 
to  be  a  final  movement  on  Richmond.  Lincoln  was 
carried  away  with  joy  for  that  message,  and  he  kissed 
the  young  correspondent  on  the  forehead, 


CHAPTER  XV 

REPORTING  THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN 

WAR 

"  As  our  country,  unlike  England,  is  not  constantly  engaged  in  military 
operations,  only  a  few  of  the  men  who  acted  as  correspondents  during 
the  war  with  Spain  went  to  the  front  with  any  previous  experience  of 
the  kind  of  work  before  them.  But  they  had  been  trained  in  a  school  of 
journalism  which  teaches  self-reliance  and,  above  all  other  things,  readi- 
ness of  resource.  In  consequence  they  met  the  new  conditions  without 
anxiety,  and  by  using  the  same  methods  they  had  formerly  employed  in 
reporting  a  horse  show  or  a  fire,  they  succeeded  in  satisfactorily  describing 
the  operations  of  our  army." 

— Richard  Harding  Davis. 

The  United  States  battleship  Maine  was  blown  up 
in  the  harbor  of  Havana  on  February  15,  1898,  at 
forty  minutes  after  nine  in  the  evening.  Captain 
Charles  Dwight  Sigsbee  wrote  and  re-wrote  his  report 
of  the  disaster  with  the  groans  of  hurt  men  in  his  ears, 
and  delivered  the  message  to  George  Bronson  Rae, 
war  correspondent,  who  carried  the  despatch  ashore 
and  put  it  on  the  cable.  Before  three  in  the  morning 
the  reports  of  the  various  Havana  correspondents 
had  reached  the  offices  of  the  New  York  dailies,  and 
at  daylight  on  February  16,  in  every  city  of  the  United 
States  shrill-voiced  newsboys  were  crying  the  tidings 
in  the  streets.  The  whole  country  knew  that  war 
was  probably  inevitable,  but  for  the  newspapers  the 
war  began  when  the  managing  editors  and  publishers 
learned  of  the  explosion  that  destroyed  the  Maine, 

The  New  York  World  began  operations  within  an 
hour  of  the  coming  of  the  news.  The  wires  to  Key 
West  were  kept  warm,  the  paper's  representatives 
dragged  divers  out  of  their  beds  and  chartered  a  tug, 
and  before  noon  the  boat  steamed  out  of  the  harbor 


410      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

with  three  divers  and  their  paraphernaHa  on  board. 
At  the  same  hour  the  Havana  correspondent  received 
cabled  instructions  to  use  the  divers  to  "get  the  actual 
truth,  whether  favorable  or  unfavorable,"  as  to  the 
destruction  of  the  battleship,  but  the  investigation 
was  not  permitted  and  the  paper  had  to  pay  extra 
bills  to  the  amount  of  one  thousand  dollars  for  that 
effort  to  get  the  news. 

While  for  many  scores  of  newspapers  the  duty  of 
covering  operations  in  Cuba  began  with  the  Havana 
explosion,  there  were  several  ©f  the  most  enterprising 
dailies  which  for  months  before  had  been  employing 
men  to  communicate,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  with  the 
insurgents  in  the  interior  of  the  island.  George 
Bronson  Rae  of  the  New  York  Herald  spent  three-quar- 
ters of  a  year  with  Maceo  and  Gomez  and  witnessed 
eighty  fights,  in  two  of  which  he  was  wounded.  He 
made  it  his  duty  not  only  to  learn  the  facts  as  to  the 
tales  of  famine,  atrocities  and  battles  which  were 
appearing  in  print,  but  to  expose  the  "factories  for 
the  faking  of  war  news"  which  were  supported  in 
Florida  and  "presided  over  by  Cuban  Munchausens." 
Major  Grover  Flint  took  like  risks  for  the  New  York 
JournaL  Sylvester  Scovel,  the  representative  of  the 
World,  was  the  best  known  and  most  bitterly  hated 
American  in  Cuba;  for  a  time  a  reward  of  ten  thousand 
dollars  was  on  his  head,  and  after  having  eluded  the 
Spaniards  frequently  he  at  last  was  taken.  The  United 
States  Senate  demanded  his  release  and  he  was  set 
at  liberty  after  an  imprisonment  of  a  few  weeks. 
Had  he  been  captured  during  the  war  he  probably 
would  have  been  executed.  For  weeks  and  months 
also  the  city  of  Havana  swarmed  with  American  news 
gatherers;  they  strolled  about  and  loitered  in  the  cafes. 


THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN  WAR        411 

apparently  with  little  to  do,  but  their  ears  were  alert 
all  the  while.  Occasionally  one  would  drop  out  of 
sight  for  a  night  and  a  day,  which  would  mean  that 
some  insurgent  agent  had  reached  town  with  news 
from  the  camps  beyond  the  city. 

Of  the  work  done  by  these  three,  Scovel,  Rae  and 
Flint,  Richard  Harding  Davis  has  written  in  terms  of 
enthusiastic  admiration : 

"They  are  taking  chances  that  no  war  correspondent 
ever  took  in  any  war  in  any  part  of  the  world.  For  this 
is  not  a  war  —  it  is  a  state  of  lawless  butchery,  and  the 
rights  of  correspondents,  of  soldiers  and  of  non-combatants 
are  not  recognized.  Archibald  Forbes  and  *Bull  Run' 
Russell  and  Frederic  Villiers  had  great  continental  armies 
to  protect  them;  these  men  work  alone  with  a  continental 
army  against  them.  They  risk  capture  at  sea  and  death 
by  the  guns  of  a  Spanish  cruiser,  and,  escaping  that,  they 
face  when  they  reach  the  island  the  greater  danger  of  capture 
there  and  of  being  cut  down  by  a  guerilla  force  and  left 
to  die  in  a  road,  or  of  being  put  in  a  prison  and 
left  to  die  of  fever.  .  .  . 

"The  reckless  bravery  and  the  unselfishness  of  the 
correspondents  in  the  field  in  Cuba  today  are  beyond  parallel. 
It  is  as  dangerous  to  seek  for  Gomez  as  Stanley  found  it  to 
seek  for  Livingstone,  and  as  few  men  return  from  the  in- 
surgent camps  as  from  the  Arctic  regions.  In  case  you  do 
not  read  a  New  York  paper,  it  is  well  that  you  should  know 
that  the  names  of  these  correspondents  are  Grover  Flint, 
Sylvester  Scovel  and  George  Bronson  Rae.  I  repeat  that, 
as  I  could  not  reach  the  field,  I  can  write  thus  freely  of  those 
who  have  been  more  successful." 

From  the  time  of  the  Maine* s  destruction  through 
the  period  of  the  American  and  the  Spanish  investiga- 
tions of  the  wreck  and  until  war  was  actually  declared, 
every  reporter  and  every  photographer  and  every 
artist  in  every  newspaper  office  in  every  city  and  in 
every  town  in  the  United  States  began  to  plot  and 


412      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

plan  and  plead  to  be  sent  to  the  front.  Every  man 
discovered  in  himself  some  special  qualifications  for 
the  work  of  a  war  correspondent.  Several  thousands 
of  persons  who  expected  to  go  to  Cuba  in  some  civilian 
capacity  and  other  thousands  of  men  who  expected 
to  be  called  out  as  soldiers  dropped  in  to  tell  the  manag- 
ing editors  that  they  could  be  induced  to  aid  also 
in  reporting  the  war.  The  copy  boys,  the  messenger 
boys  and  the  printer's  devils  *'up-stairs"  all  announced 
that  they  could  squirm  through  picket  lines  and  fetch 
messages  in  from  that  alluring  and  mysterious  place 
called  "the  front"  and  that  no  scouts  could  catch 
them.  Newspaper  work  became  decidedly  popular. 
And,  in  very  truth,  some  of  these  tyros  went  to  the 
front  and  made  good» 

Past  experience  counted  for  very  little  once  the 
paper's  men  were  at  the  seat  of  actual  war.  Success 
seemed  to  be  a  question  of  intelligence  and  of  character. 
Men  were  rushed  out  of  city  rooms  because  they  were 
believed  to  have  gumption,  they  were  set  down  in 
Cuba  in  blissful  ignorance  of  the  difference  between  a 
cartridge  and  a  caramel,  and  they  kept  pace  with  the 
firing  line  cheerfully  and  tramped  through  the  jungle 
with  news  for  the  despatch  boats  quite  as  if  they  were 
on  ordinary  city  assignments.  Many  a  newspaper 
woman  shed  bitter  tears  because  she  was  not  chosen 
for  duty  in  Cuba,  and  one  or  two  women  did  manage 
to  go  to  the  war.  The  papers  entered  upon  a  scramble 
for  the  capture  of  the  writers  of  reputation  whose 
names  might  count  for  much  as  special  correspondents 
with  the  armies,  and  whose  descriptions  of  battles 
and  charges  might  be  expected  to  read  with  the  fas- 
cination which  had  made  their  stories  best  sellers. 
Rudyard  Kipling  was  bombarded   with  cablegrams. 


THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN  WAR        413 

Four  scores  of  editors  wired  for  his  services;  a  few  with 
unUmited  resources  asked  him  to  name  his  own  price. 

Expenses  mounted  skyward.  The  papers  planned 
to  cover  the  whole  field  of  action  from  the  Philippines 
to  Porto  Rico,  to  put  the  right  men  at  the  right  strategic 
places,  to  secure  in  advance  cable  facilities  and  despatch 
boats,  to  deal  intelligently  with  the  mass  of  news 
that  would  come  into  the  home  offices,  and  to  provide 
for  the  enormous  increase  of  press  run  and  of  circulation 
which  they  felt  their  enterprise  ought  to  bring  them. 
A  special  desk  of  copy  readers  of  war  news  was  organized 
by  many  papers,  and  they  handled  all  the  war  messages, 
sorting,  comparing,  editing  and  allotting  their  space 
to  all  the  despatches  which  came  over  the  wires. 
Special  trains  were  chartered  to  carry  extras  to  distant 
cities,  and  in  Buffalo,  New  York  evening  papers  were 
sold  by  thousands  from  the  time  the  theatres  closed 
until  the  restaurants  emptied  after  midnight,  while 
every  remote  hamlet  consumed  a  few  of  the  dailies 
from  the  half-dozen  great  cities.  The  men  who 
whipped  copy  into  shape  and  made  headlines  rejoiced 
over  one  thing  that  brought  them  to  the  point  of 
imprecation  many  times  when  handling  news  of  Pres- 
ident Roosevelt  and  other  public  men  with  long  names 
—  the  word  most  often  used,  "War,"  had  but  three 
letters  and  could  be  fitted  into  any  headline. 

Immediately  after  that  fateful  February  day  in 
Havana  the  censorship  became  severe.  With  the 
censorship  came  the  despatch  boats,  and  these  fast 
little  vessels  rapidly  increased  the  cost  of  covering  the 
war  that  was  not  far  ahead.  Before  the  actual  dec- 
laration these  vessels  made  merely  a  trip  a  day  across 
the  Florida  Straits  and  their  cargo  was  only  a  little 
packet  of  manuscript.    As  war  came  near  and  the 


414      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

blockade  extended  its  lines  several  papers  secured  two, 
three,  five,  a  fleet  of  swift  despatch  boats.  After  the 
press  men  were  ordered  away  from  Havana  and  the 
blockade  was  begun  the  work  of  the  news  boats  became 
most  exacting.  The  line  of  blockade  stretched  one 
himdred  and  twenty  miles.  The  boats  had  to  speak 
every  ship  in  the  line  once  each  day.  Patrols  would 
start  at  each  end  of  the  blockading  fleet  and  meet  at 
the  middle,  when  one  would  take  the  news  and  sketches 
both  had  secured  and  start  for  Key  West.  The  corre- 
spondents would  work  as  hard  at  their  long  table  in 
the  cabin  as  ever  they  would  have  done  at  a  copy  desk 
in  the  home  office.  On  dark  nights  they  often  were 
challenged  by  ships  of  the  blockading  fleet.  In  the 
main  the  relations  between  the  warships  and  the  press 
boats  were  amiable,  and  news  was  megaphoned  in 
exchange  for  the  gossip  the  reporters  might  have 
collected  down  the  line. 

Ray  Stannard  Baker,  writing  at  the  time  of  hostili- 
ties, says:  "Owing  to  the  threatened  hazards  of  war, 
ship  owners  exacted  from  five  thousand  dollars  to  nine 
thousand  dollars  a  month  for  the  use  of  each  of  these 
boats,  and  the  newspapers  were  required  to  bear  the 
additional  expense  of  fire,  marine,  accident  and  war 
insurance,  which  the  alarmed  underwriters  of  New 
York  had  fixed  at  the  enormous  rate  of  eight  per 
cent  a  month  —  equal  in  a  year  to  nearly  the  total 
value  of  the  boat.  One  New  York  paper  pays  twenty- 
two  hundred  dollars  a  month  insurance  on  a  single  tug 
—  and  it  has  five  boats  in  service  in  different  parts 
of  the  world."  In  addition,  of  course,  the  publishers 
had  to  pay  the  cost  of  coaling  the  ships  and  the  salaries 
of  their  correspondents,  besides  ordinary  supplies. 
One  managing  editor  showed  a  friend  his  salary  list 


THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN  WAR        415 

for  war  reporters  and  it  amounted  to  more  than  four- 
teen hundred  dollars  a  week. 

To  the  cost  of  despatch  boats  and  the  salaries  of 
men  there  must  be  added  the  cable  tolls,  and  these 
often  were  enormous.  The  cable  rate  from  Key  West 
to  New  York  was  five  cents  a  word  for  press  despatches, 
but  the  necessity  of  protecting  all  points  where  news 
might  be  had  or  to  which  news  might  be  carried  for 
transmission  vastly  increased  these  costs.  It  was 
necessary  to  garrison  the  non-Spanish  ports  whence 
cablegrams  might  be  sent.  Thus  St.  Thomas,  nearest 
to  Porto  Rico,  and  the  Haytian  ports  came  to  be  occu- 
pied by  press  men.  The  cable  rates  from  these  points 
were  from  fifty  cents  a  word  upward,  and  when  a 
paper  found  it  necessary  to  cable  information  to  its 
correspondents  at  West  Indian  ports,  the  rate  on  these 
messages,  which  were  not  entitled  to  news  rates  for 
publication,  was  between  two  and  three  dollars  a  word. 

Places  more  distant  far,  however,  also  came  into 
the  reckoning.  Madrid  had  to  be  considered.  The 
censorship  hindered  the  sending  of  really  important 
news  even  to  London  and  Paris  papers.  A  courier 
system  was  devised,  by  which  special  runners  took 
messages  over  the  six  hours  of  railway  from  Madrid 
across  the  French  boundary  at  Biarritz  or  Bayonne, 
whence  the  use  of  the  cable  might  be  had  without  the 
censor's  excisions  emasculating  the  despatches.  These 
couriers  did  their  work  at  considerable  personal  risk, 
and  the  total  cost  to  some  American  dailies,  cable  tolls 
included,  was  two  thousand  dollars  a  week.  At  some 
cross  roads  stations  of  the  seas  the  papers  had  no  special 
reporters,  as  the  Canary  Islands  and  Martinique,  but 
at  all  such  places  there  is  always  some  authorized 
person  representing  if  not  a  paper  a  news  bureau, 


416      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

and  to  whatever  city  he  may  report,  his  news  will  find 
its  way  across  oceans  and  continents  to  New  York 
in  a  short  time.  So  it  was  that  the  New  York  papers 
learned  that  the  Spanish  fleet  was  at  the  Cape  Verde 
Islands.  The  message  cost  eighty-six  cents  a  word. 
Farther  still  was  Manila,  so  far  that  not  even  the  most 
aggressive  American  paper  could  get  a  special  to 
Hong  Kong  or  the  Philippines  directly  from  home  in 
time  for  the  battle.  For  days,  when  it  was  seen  that 
a  naval  action  at  Manila  was  imminent,  the  cable 
was  heavy  with  American  newspaper  messages  on 
which  the  toll  was  one  dollar  and  sixty  cents  a  word. 

The  first  great  event  of  the  campaign  was  the  victory 
of  Admiral  Dewey  in  Manila  Bay.  In  his  official 
report  the  commander  of  the  American  fleet  says: 
**Mr.  J.  L.  Stickney,  formerly  an  officer  in  the  United 
States  Navy,  and  now  correspondent  for  the  New  York 
Herald,  volunteered  for  duty  as  my  aide  and  rendered 
valuable  services."  This  correspondent,  who  had 
been  graduated  from  the  Naval  Academy  in  1868, 
and  in  the  Russo-Turkish  war  of  1877  had  represented 
the  Chicago  Tribune,  was  in  Japan  following  the  move- 
ments of  the  British,  Russian  and  Japanese  fleets. 
On  April  9,  1898,  he  cabled  from  Tokio  to  Dewey  for 
permission  to  go  with  the  squadron  to  the  Philippines, 
agreeing  so  long  as  he  might  be  on  board  to  send  out 
no  news  without  Dewey's  approval,  and  citing  the 
already-secured  permission  of  the  Secretary  of  the 
Navy.  The  reply  was  favorable;  Stickney  hastened 
to  Hong  Kong.  When  he  had  last  seen  the  ships  at 
Yokohama  they  had  been  white  and  brilliant;  now 
they  were  grim  and  gray,  the  war  color. 

On  the  forward  bridge  of  the  flagship  Olympia  a 
few  minutes  before  six  on  thfe  morning  of  May  Day, 


THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN  WAR        417 

Stickney  heard  Dewey  speak  the  words  which  opened 
the  battle,  the  well  remembered  **You  may  fire  when 
ready,  Gridley."  To  his  petition  for  a  place  on  the 
bridge  the  commander  had  made  no  definite  reply 
imtil  the  day  before  the  action,  when  he  named  him 
as  aide  and  asked  him  quizzically,  "Are  you  satisfied?" 
Thus  the  reporter  had  as  good  a  view  of  the  victory 
as  the  admiral  himself.  On  May  5,  a  despatch  boat 
was  sent  to  Hong  Kong,  aboard  which  was  Stickney 
with  long  cablegrams  for  his  paper. 

The  exact  number  of  American  newspaper  men 
who  saw  service  at  the  front  in  this  short  war  cannot 
be  stated.  One  authority  puts  the  number  at  one 
hundred  and  thirty;  another  at  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
five,  and  a  third  sets  the  mark  at  two  less  than  two 
hundred.  Their  numbers  exceeded  certainly  the  wild- 
est dreams  of  the  War  Department.  At  Tampa  during 
the  "rocking  chair  period"  writers  and  artists  of  every 
description  loitered  about  the  verandahs  of  the  hotel. 
Dailies,  weeklies  and  monthlies  had  their  representa- 
tives, and  some  rather  absurd  claims  were  pressed, 
as  when  a  correspondent  undertook  to  go  with  the 
expedition  as  the  special  for  an  agricultural  paper. 
General  Shafter  had  first  and  last  to  deal  with  nearly 
a  hundred  writers  and  picture  makers.  But  there 
were  many  men  of  the  first  class  nevertheless  in  the 
newspaper  corps. 

When  the  war  was  nearly  over  a  company  of  press 
men  in  Porto  Rico  listed  the  events  which  they  judged 
to  have  the  geratest  news  value  for  the  whole  campaign 
and  credited  the  correspondents  with  the  events  which 
they  respectively  had  witnessed.  Stephen  Crane  led 
them  all.  He  lived  in  the  war  a  real  "Red  Badge 
of    Courage."     Richard    Harding    Davis    pronounces 


418      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

him  **the  coolest  man,  whether  army  officer  or  civilian," 
whom  he  "saw  under  fire  at  any  time  during  the 
war."  Leonard  Wood,  who  then  was  colonel  of  the 
Rough  Riders,  twice  ordered  Crane  to  drop  on  his 
face  when  bullets  were  thickly  flying  about,  and  the 
novelist  pretended  not  to  hear,  but  a  bit  of  sarcasm 
from  Davis  had  the  desired  effect. 

Stephen  Crane  first  went  out  on  a  despatch  boat 
from  Key  West  with  three  other  press  men,  when, 
he  wrote,  *'the  war  was  not  a  gory  giant,  but  a  bunch 
of  bananas  swung  in  the  middle  of  the  cabin."  On  a 
pitch  black  night  they  were  almost  rammed  by  the 
Machicis,  The  Three  Friends  landed  them  near  Guan- 
tanamo  Bay,  where  various  curious  experiences  befell 
the  writer,  some  of  them  diverting,  as  when  one  after- 
noon a  lot  of  men  were  bathing  and  in  the  midst  of 
their  water  frolic  firing  was  resumed.  They  scampered 
out  of  the  water,  grabbed  their  guns  and  went  into 
action  dressed  in  their  cartridge  belts  and  nothing 
more.  Crane  carried  despatches  like  any  other  reporter 
to  the  cable  station  at  Fort  Antonio,  Jamaica.  With 
a  colleague  he  planned  to  make  a  landing  somewhere 
west  of  Santiago,  creep  through  the  Spanish  lines, 
and  obtain  a  view  of  the  Spanish  fleet  lying  in  the 
harbor.  Rumor  said  the  Viscaya  had  escaped  and 
it  would  be  a  neat  thing  to  make  sure.  They  steamed 
to  a  point  opposite  a  little  Cuban  camp,  threw  two 
little  Jamaican  polo  ponies  into  the  water,  climbed 
into  a  little  row  boat  and  made  for  the  shore.  Some 
insurgents  met  them,  caught  their  ponies,  and  gave 
them  an  escort  of  six  men  into  the  hills.  The  camp 
was  a  thing  of  saplings  and  palm  bark  tied  with  creepers. 
To  get  up  the  "trails"  the  Americans  had  to  lie  flat 
on  their  diminutive  ponies,  while  their  escort  scampered 


THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN  WAR        419 

in  and  out  "like  rats."  At  dawn  they  left  their 
mounts  with  their  Cuban  friends  and  sneaked  through 
the  Spanish  lines  and  up  a  great  hill  which  commanded 
a  view  of  the  harbor  of  Santiago.  There  tranquilly 
at  anchor  lay  the  fleet.  "The  bay  was  white  in  the 
sun,  and  the  great  black-hulled  armored  cruisers  were 
impressive  in  a  dignity  massive  yet  graceful."  Crane 
looked  at  them  and  his  comrade  made  sketches  and 
maps;  they  two  were  "the  last  Americans  to  view  the 
ships  alive  and  unhurt  and  at  peace."  Once  back 
on  their  boat  they  steamed  to  the  flagship,  where  they 
had  an  interview  with  Admiral  Sampson  and  related 
what  they  had  seen.  Crane  had  a  place  on  San  Juan 
Hill  when  Richmond  Pearson  Hobson  and  his  men 
were  exchanged  and  brought  within  the  American 
lines.  He  saw  something  "solemn,  funereal,  in  the 
splendid  silent  welcome  of  a  brave  man  by  men  who 
stood  on  a  hill  which  they  had  earned  out  of  blood 
and  death."  That  was  the  real  welcome  rather  than 
the  applause  which  later  was  vented.  The  novelist 
caught  a  fever  at  length,  and,  in  spite  of  what  Scovel 
and  Rae  tried  to  do  for  him,  he  was  obliged  to  return 
home.  No  one  wrote  of  the  war  quite  as  did  Stephen 
Crane.  His  story  of  the  regular  bleeding  to  death  in 
the  Cuban  hills,  and  his  tale  of  the  marine  at  Guan- 
tanamo,  with  bullets  splashing  the  sand  about  him, 
counting  the  flag  signals,  are  pieces  of  literature.  As 
one  reads  them  he  should  recall  that  what  they  dared 
Crane  also  faced.  He  sat  at  the  feet  of  the  signal 
man  and  watched  his  lips  move  as  he  counted,  but 
with  the  writer  that  was  not  courage;  it  was  just  a  part 
of  the  day's  work  of  a  special  correspondent  in  war 
time. 

John  Fox  was  another  novelist  who  proved  himself 


420      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

as  a  war  reporter  in  Cuba.  Frank  Norris,  whose 
"The  Pit"  and  "The  Octopus"  gave  him  a  hearing 
and  fame  throughout  the  world,  was  one  of  two  corre- 
spondents who  actually  witnessed  the  surrender  of 
Santiago  to  General  Shafter  by  General  Toral.  Stephen 
Bonsai  was  another  whose  chief  interest  was  not  in 
accurate  descriptions  of  military  strategies,  but  in 
the  picturesque  and  dramatic  incidents  of  the  cam- 
paign. He  saw  the  soldiers  scrambling  about  Hobson 
as  he  came  back  to  his  own  camp  after  his  capture  and 
imprisonment,  and  records  that  "suddenly  he  turned 
very  white,  he  was  deeply  affected.  It  was  apparent 
that  he  had  not  the  faintest  conception  of  the  idolatry 
with  which  his  exploit  is  regarded."  He  tells  of  the 
"tall,  slightly  built  woman  standing  before  a  great 
black  pot  suspended  on  a  crane,  seemingly  quite  inured 
to  or  oblivious  of  the  thick  smoke"  —  Clara  Barton 
of  the  Red  Cross.  That  the  Rough  Riders  sang  "Fair 
Harvard"  in  the  rifle  pits  with  the  enemy  within  easy 
ear-shot  was  of  as  much  importance  to  him  as  the 
evolutions  of  the  ships  commanded  by  Admiral  Samp- 
son. For  the  purposes  of  such  a  writer  there  is  news 
interest  in  the  fact  that  he  did  his  own  washing,  spread 
his  three  handkerchiefs  and  his  single  pair  of  socks 
on  a  rock  to  dry,  stretched  out  on  the  moss  to  sleep, 
and  awoke  to  find  his  washing  gone!  Surely  both 
the  military  and  naval  historian  and  the  writer  of 
"human  interest  stuff"  are  necessary  if  a  war  is  ever 
to  be  described  in  all  its  phases  and  if  its  entire  signifi- 
cance is  to  be  understood. 

By  no  means  all  the  men  who  were  in  the  ranks  in 
this  war  can  be  mentioned  here.  Many  were  not 
able  to  write  a  thrilling  paragraph,  but  they  were 
trained  reporters  who  understood  the  value  of  absolute 


THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN  WAR        421 

accuracy.  It  was  theirs  to  race  to  the  wu-es  with 
exact  accounts  of  skirmishes  and  battles  in  which  every 
regiment  and  company  should  be  correctly  designated 
and  the  name  of  every  man  killed  or  wounded  spelled 
without  error.  But  of  the  outstanding  personalities 
there  must  be  mentioned  Frank  Millet, —  the  lamented 
artist  who  was  lost  with  the  Titanic,  and  who  had  been 
with  MacGahan  in  the  Balkans  twenty  years  before, 
who  saw  the  fighting  in  the  Philippines, —  and  the  men 
whom  England  sent  to  Cuba.  Russell's  biographer, 
John  B.  Atkins,  came  out  for  The  Times,  Phil  Robinson, 
E.  F.  Knight  and  H.  C.  Seppings  Wright  were  in  the 
field  through  a  portion  of  the  war,  and  George  Lynch, 
who  has  seen  service  in  several  campaigns,  represented 
the  Daily  Chronicle. 

The  men  sent  out  by  the  Associated  Press  had  to 
endure  the  cruel  fate  of  anonymity.  They  were  parts 
of  the  great  news  gathering  machine  to  which  men 
must  sacrifice  personal  brilliancy  and  originality. 
Melville  E.  Stone,  its  general  manager,  declares  that 
the  Associated  Press  scored  its  first  notable  war  success 
during  the  war  with  Spain.  The  "A.  P.'*  of  course 
had  its  fleet  of  despatch  boats  plying  to  Haitien  and 
Jamaican  cable  stations  and  the  bureau  placed  scores 
of  men  at  strategic  points.  Four  men  wrote  a  com- 
posite story  of  the  sinking  of  the  Merrimac  and  the 
interweaving  was  so  cleverly  done  that  the  separate 
parts  elude  the  reader  today.  Howard  Thompson 
was  one  of  the  men  who  rose  above  the  anonymity 
of  his  service.  It  was  his  story  of  the  surrender  of 
self-government  to  Cuba  that  was  made  a  part  of  the 
Congressional  Record  by  a  unanimous  and  voluntary 
Act  of  Congress.  Then  the  "A.  P."  had  Edward 
Graham  on  the  bridge  of  the  Brooklyn  with  Commodore 


422      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

Schley  when  Cervera's  fleet  was  destroyed,  and  at 
the  same  action  W.  A.  M.  Goode  stood  under  the  for- 
ward bridge  of  Admiral  Sampson's  flagship,  the  New 
York,  and  these  were  the  only  non-combatant  eye- 
witnesses of  the  battle  of  Santiago  aboard  the  battle- 
ships themselves. 

No  Spanish  war  correspondent  was  better  known 
than  Richard  Harding  Davis.  His  had  been  a  world 
experience  as  a  reporter.  In  the  war  between  Greece 
and  Turkey  he  was  out  for  the  London  Times,  Frederic 
Vilhers,  who  saw  one  coronation  in  Moscow,  was  turned 
away  from  the  next,  and  of  the  eight  Americans  in 
the  cathedral  Davis  was  one,  counting  also  as  one 
of  the  five  newspaper  men  who  were  spectators  of  the 
ceremony.  Since  the  war  in  Cuba  he  has  widened  his 
experience  as  a  war  correspondent  by  his  service  in  South 
Africa  and  in  the  Port  Arthur  campaign,  and  today 
he  is  just  back  from  Mexico.  Nearly  all  that  was  most 
important  in  the  Cuban  fighting  came  under  his  obser- 
vation. Before  the  blowing  up  of  the  Maine  he  made 
a  trip  through  four  of  the  six  provinces  of  the  island. 
One  afternoon  more  than  two  months  after  the  fateful 
event  in  the  harbor  of  Havana  he  was  seated  on 
a  hotel  porch  at  Key  West,  where  for  many  weeks 
he  had  spent  most  of  his  time,  when  a  boy  rode 
up  on  a  bicycle  with  a  telegram  for  the  Herald  reporter. 
The  Journal  correspondent  read  it  over  the  shoulder 
of  his  confrere  and  watched  him  consult  his  code  book. 
The  message  read,  "Rain  and  Hail."  The  code  gave 
the  meaning,  "  War  is  declared.  Fleet  is  ordered  to 
sea."  In  a  few  minutes  the  wildest  excitement  was 
reigning  in  that  hotel;  luggage  was  dumped  in  heaps 
into  the  halls;  hackmen  were  lashing  their  horses 
through   the   streets   towards   the   wharf.     War   was 


THE  SPANISH-AMERICAN  WAR        423 

begun  and  the  reporters  meant  to  catch  the  fleet  which 
was  to  sail  at  four  in  the  morning. 

For  ten  days  Davis  was  on  board  the  New  York, 
He  saw  the  bombardment  of  Matanzas;  then  ensued 
the  "  rocking  chair  period  "  at  Tampa  while  the  troops 
waited  until  it  was  certain  that  Cervera  would  not  be 
able  to  interfere  with  the  transportation  of  the  army 
to  Cuba.  He  saw  the  famous  charge  of  the  Rough 
Riders  at  San  Juan,  when  "General  Hawkins  with 
hair  white  as  snow,  and  Roosevelt,  with  the  blue  polka- 
dot  handkerchief  a  la  Havelock  floating  out  straight 
behind  his  head  like  a  guidon,  were  the  two  most  con- 
spicuous figures,"  and  in  the  Porto  Rico  campaign 
it  happened  to  fall  to  Davis  to  receive  the  surrender 
of  a  town.  He  "keeps  the  key  of  the  cartel  as  a  sou- 
venir of  the  fact  that  once  for  twenty  minutes  he  was 
mayor  and  miHtary  governor  and  chief  of  police  of 
Coamo."  Stephen  Crane  was  present  at  that  event 
also,  which  has  a  pleasing  resemblance  to  that  of  Stee- 
vens  and  his  comrades  of  the  craft  in  the  war  in  Greece 
in  1897. 

The  reporters  had  their  list  of  casualties  as  well  as 
the  men  who  fought  the  battles.  Four  correspondents 
were  wounded.  Edward  Marshall,  in  the  ambuscade 
in  which  Hamilton  Fish  and  others  lost  their  lives, 
emptied  his  revolver  at  his  foes  and  was  hit  near  the 
spine  by  a  Mauser  bullet.  Unable  to  make  any  bodily 
movement,  he,  with  several  others  wounded,  undertook 
to  sing  the  "  Star  Spangled  Banner  "  to  let  his  comrades 
know  he  was  not  dead.  Told  that  he  could  not  live, 
he  wrote  his  despatch  to  his  paper  while  bleeding  on 
a  blanket.  James  Whigham  and  James  F.  J.  Archibald 
also  were  wounded  and  James  Creelman  was  hit  in 
the  charge  which  he  led.     Archibald  was  in  command 


424      FAMOUS  WAR  CORRESPONDENTS 

of  some  men  at  the  time  a  squad  was  landed  from  the 
Gussie  and  was  the  only  man  hurt  in  that  affair.  Mr. 
Lyman  of  the  Associated  Press  contracted  a  fever  at 
Siboney  from  which  he  died  a  month  after  the  war. 
Of  Frank  Collins  of  the  Boston  Journal,  Richard  Hard- 
ing Davis  writes  in  terms  of  deserved  eulogy,  saying 
that  "racked  with  fever  and  worn  out  with  lack  of 
food,  he  died,  as  much  a  martyr  to  the  war  as  the  men 
in  uniform  who  were  killed  by  Mauser  bullets." 


INDEX 


Abdul  Kerim  Pasha,  94. 

Alexander  II,  Czar  of  Russia, 
102,  105. 

Anderson,  Findley,  correspond- 
ent in  American  Civil 
War,  380. 

Anderson,  Robert,  361,  368,  372, 
403. 

Arabi  Ahmed  (Arabi  Pasha), 
175-179,  197. 

Archibald,  James  F.  J.,  cor- 
respondent in  Cuba,  423. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  63. 

Arnoldi,  General,  168.  170. 

Ashmead-Bartlett,  Ellis ; 
quoted,  1. 

Associated  Press,  the,  190,  421, 
424. 

Astor,  William  Waldorf,  305. 

Atkins,  John  B.,  6,  421. 

Baker,  Ray  Stannard; 

quoted,  414. 
Baker,  Col.,  Valentine,  166, 180, 

200. 
Barry,   Richard,  correspondent 
in  Russo-Japanese  war,  190. 
Barton,  Miss  Clara,  420. 
Bashi-Bazouks,   101,   116,   141, 
163,  173,  174,  Edward  H. 
Vizetelly      as      a      Bashi- 
Bazouk,  271Jf. 
Balloons,  as  despatch    bearers, 

250/. 
Battles: 
Abarzuza-Estella,  137; 
Abu  Klea,  183,  208; 
Abu  Kru,  cf.  Gubat; 
Alexandria,  bombardment  of , 

10, 176/.,  268/.,  274/.; 
Alma,  the,  11,  43; 


Antietam,  399; 

Atbara,  the,  213,313; 

Balaclava,  44 ; 

Ball's  Bluff,  397; 

Belmont,  303; 

Buena  Vista,  353,  364 ; 

Bull  Run,  56/.,  381,  393,  394, 

397" 
Cashgill,c/.E10beid; 
Cerro  Gordo,  366; 
Chapultepec,  367; 
Chattanooga,  397; 
Chickamauga,  263; 
Churubusco,  368; 
Contreras,  368; 
Corunna,  7: 
Courcelles,  76; 
Djunis,  163; 
Domoko,  311; 
Elandslaagte,  317; 
ElCaney,346; 
El  Obeid  (CashgiU),  174,  245, 

269; 
ElTeb,  180/.,  201; 
Ferkeh,  301 ; 
Five  Forks,  386; 
Fort   Sumter,    bombardment 

of,  388,  398,403; 
Fredericksburg,  263,382,395; 
Friedland,  7; 

Gettysburg,  379,  382,  387; 
Gravelotte,  10, 14,  15,  29,  76; 
Guantanamo,  419; 
Gubat  (Abu  Kru),  183,  208; 
Idstedt,33; 
Inkermann,  47; 
Island  No.  10,  382,  388; 
LeMans,  255,  257; 
Liao  Yang,  27; 
Malakand,  the,  324 ; 
Manila  Bay,  416; 


425 


'^" 


426 


INDEX 


Battles,  continued: 

Mars-la-Tour,  14 ; 

Mati,  308; 

Meluna,308; 

Metz,  «1 ; 

Molinodel  Rey,  368; 

Monterey,  361,  363; 

Omdurman,  215,  314,  326; 

Ping-Yang,  336; 

Pirot,  183f.; 

Plevna,    29,    101,    106,    147, 
171; 

Quebec,  capture  of,  11; 

Retuerta,  8; 

Saarbruck,  15,  75, 108; 

Sadowa,  10,59,386; 

Saltillo,  363; 

San  Juan,  423; 

Santiago,  422; 

Sedan,  17,  60,  76,  232; 

Shiloh,  380,  386; 

ShipkaPass,  102; 

Solferino,  258; 

South  Mountain,  399; 

Spottsylvania,  380; 

Tamai,  156,  181,  203; 

Tel-el-Kebir,  197/.; 

Ulundi,  109; 

Velestino,  309; 

Vera  Cruz,  366; 

Villar  de  los  Navarros,  8; 

Vionville,76; 

Wilderness,  the,  379, 384, 397, 
406; 

Yalu,  the,  340. 
Bazaine,  Marshal,  21. 
Beall,  John  Yates,  192f/. 
Beit,  Alfred,  189. 
Bell,  C.  F.  Moberly,  10. 
Benedek,  Gen.  Ludwig  Von,  59. 
Bennett,   James   Gordon,    138, 

140,  281//.,  355,  393. 
Beresford,  Lord  Charles,  175. 
Bicycle,  used  by  correspondents, 

156,188,223,334. 
Bismarck,  Prince  Von,  10,  15, 

60,  63,  65,  78,  84. 
Blood,  Sir  Bindon,  323,  326. 


Bonsai,  Stephen,  correspondent 
in  Cuba,  420. 

Boyle,  Frederick,  correspondent 
in  Russo-Turkish  war,  147. 

Bourbaki,  Gen.  C.  D.  S.,  118. 

Brackenbury,  Capt.  Harry,  cor- 
respondent in  Austro-Prus- 
sian  war,  59. 

Bradlaugh,  Charles,  229. 

Bragg,  Captain  Braxton,  354. 

Brooks,  Shirley; 
quoted,  10. 

Brown,  Sir  George,  352. 

Browne,  Hablot,  248. 

Browne,  Junius  T.,  correspond- 
ent in  American  Civil  War, 
379,  389,  390. 

Browning,  Oscar,  quoted,  304. 

Bulgarian  Massacres  of  1876, 
140//. 

Buller,  Gen.  Sir  Redvers,  110, 
200,  210,  318,  333. 

Burleigh,  Bennet,  192-23;  char- 
acterized, 192,  196,  230; 
Southern  soldier  in  Ameri- 
can Civil  War,  192;  first 
lijterary  work,  193;  escape 
from  Fort  Delaware,  194; 
attempt  to  liberate  Lake 
Erie  prisoners,  194;  his  case 
an  international  problem, 
196;  newspaper  work  in 
America,  196;  joins  the 
Daily  Telegraph,  197;  at 
battle  of  Tel-el-Kebir,  197; 
his  battle  "scoop,"  199; 
hurries  from  London  to 
Trinikat,200;atElTeb,201; 
scores  with  the  news,  202; 
helps  save  broken  square 
at  Tamai,  203;  sending  the 
news,  207 ;  at  Abu  Klea,  208 ; 
exploit  at  Abu  Kru,  208; 
sends  news  of  safety  of 
Desert  Column,  210; 
journey  to  Kassala,  211; 
at  the  Atbara,  213;  at 
Omdurman,  125;  scores  with 


INDEX 


427 


Burleigh,  Bennet,  continued  : 
news  of  Marchand  and 
Fashoda,  218;  The  Times 
uses  his  story  of  Omdurman, 
219;  campaign  in  Mada- 
gascar, 220;  in  the  Ashanti 
campaign,  223;  uses  bicycle 
in  Ashanti,  224;  escapes 
from  Ladj'smith,  225;  flags 
train  to  interview  Joubert^ 
226;  uses  Prayer  Book  to 
score  a  "scoop,"  227;  later 
campaigns,  228;  as  a  gen- 
eral reporter,  229;  death, 
229;  tribute  of  Field-Mar- 
shal Wood,  230; 
mentioned,  155,  293; 
quoted,  25,  27,  205/.,  213, 
214,  216,  219,  223/. 

Burnaby,  Col.  Frederick,  117, 
183,  208. 

Byington,  E.  H.,  correspondent 
in  American  Civil  War,  379. 

Cable  Tolls,  cost  of  War  Des- 
patches, 350,  415. 

Cameron,  John  Alexander,  cor- 
respondent of  the  Standard, 
178,  209. 

Campbell,  Sir  Colin,  49,  53. 

Caprera,  Garibaldi's  Island,  260. 

**  Captious  Critic, "  the,  cf.  Vizet- 
elly,  Montague. 

Cardigan,  Lord,  44. 

Carleton,  Edmund,  384. 

Carson,  ,  correspondent  in 

American  Civil  War,  380. 

Cashgill,  Massacre  of,  cf.  El 
Obeid,  under  Battles. 

Cavagnari,  Sir  Louis,  175. 

Censorship  of  War  Correspond- 
ence, 22,  96,  188,  288,  350, 
379,  389,  413. 

Cetewayo,  Zulu  King,  110. 

ChaflFee,  Gen.  Adna  R.,  347. 

Chanzy,  Gen.  Antome  E.  A., 
254/. 


"Chaparral,"  correspondent  in 
Mexican  war  of  1846, 7, 353. 

Chapman,  J.  C,  correspondent 
in  Egypt,  273,  280. 

Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade, 
44//. 

Charge  of  Mahmud,  309. 

Charge    of    Gen.    Pickett    at 
Gettysburg,  382. 

Charge    of    21st    Lancers    at 
Omdurman,  315/.,  327. 

Chelmsford,  Lord,  110. 

Churchill,  Lady  Randolph,  189. 

Churchill,  Lord  Randolph,  321, 
329. 

Churchill,  Winston  Spencer;  per- 
sonal appearance,  320;  early 
life,  321;  in  Cuba,  321;  with 
the  Malakand  Field  Force, 
322;  fighting  in  the  Him- 
alayas, 324;  in  the  Soudan, 
326;  at  battle  of  Omdur- 
man, 326;  his  books,  320, 
326;  in  South  Africa,  327; 
captured  by  Boers  in  affair 
of  armored  train,  327; 
escape  from  Pretoria,  330; 
with  Gen.  Buller  and  Lord 
Roberts,  333;  narrow  escape 
with  life,  334;  uses  bicycle 
to  score,  334;  in  the  Com- 
mons and  the  Cabinet,  335 ; 
quoted,  3,  320,  324,  328/., 
330/. 

Cinematograph,  use  of  by  cor- 
respondents, 156,  188. 

"Clere,  Bertie,"  cf.  Vizetelly, 
Edward  H. 

Coffin,  Charles  Carleton:  cor- 
respondent in  American 
Civil  War,  380/.,  char- 
acter and  equipment,  381; 
scores  at  Forts  Donelson 
and  Henry,  381,  and  at 
Gettysburg,  382;  in  Wilder- 
ness campaign,  383;  on 
raising  flag  over  Fort  Sum- 
ter, 385;  in  Richmond  with 


428 


INDEX 


Coffin,  Charles  C,  continued: 
Pres.    Lincoln,    386;    later 
years,  386; 
mentioned,  396; 
quoted,  375. 

Colburn,  Richard  T.,  corre- 
spondent in  American  Civil 
War  379,  389. 

Collins,  Frank,  in  Cuba,  424. 

Commune,  the  Paris,  89, 118, 254. 

Condor,  H.  M.  S.,  at  Alexandria, 
175. 

Conway,  Moncure  D.,  his  ex- 
ploit at  Gravelotte,  15^. 

Conyngham,     ,     American 

Civil    War    correspondent, 
380. 

Cook,  Joel,  American  Civil  War 
correspondent,  380. 

Crane,  Stephen,  in  Spanish- 
American  war,  417^.,  423. 

Crealock,  Gen.,  111. 

Creelman,  James:  in  Chino- 
Japanese  war,  336;  at 
storming  of  Ping-Yang,  336; 
has  story  of  battle  of  the 
Yalu  from  Admiral  Ito,  340 ; 
wounded,  341;  at  siege  of 
Port  Arthur,  341;  reports 
massacre  by  Japanese,  343 ; 
in  Greco-Turkish  war,  344; 
race  for  the  wire,  345;  in 
Spanish -American  war,  346 ; 
leads  charge  at  El  Caney, 
346;  wounded,  349,  423; 
in  the  Philippines,  349; 
race  with  a  woman  for  the 
cable,  350; 
mentioned,  27; 
quoted,  155,  337,  340,  343, 
345/.,  347/. 

Cyprus,  English  occupation  of, 
273. 

Dana  Charles  A.,  398/.,  407. 
Davis,  Jefferson,  353. 
Davis,  Richard  Harding,  work 
as    a    war    correspondent. 


422/f.;    receives    surrender 

of  a  town,  423; 
mentioned,  29,  320; 
quoted,  409,  411,  418,  423/. 
Davis  William  E.,  correspondent 

in  American  Civil  War,  391. 
Delane,  John  Thaddeus,  editor 

of  The  Times,  31,  35,  39, 

40,  48,  58. 
Desert  Columnin  Soudan,  210. 
Despatch  Boats,  413, 421. 
Dewey,  Admiral  George,  416. 
Dobson,   H.,   correspondent  in 

Russo-Turkish  war,   153. 
Dombrowski,  Jaroslaw,  89,  119. 
Dore,  Gustave,  248. 
Douay,  Gen.  Felix  C,  119. 
Doyle,    T.,    correspondent    in 

American  Civil  War,  380. 
Dufferin,   Lord,    184-186. 
Dumas,  Alexandre,  pSre,  259. 

Egypt,  English  occupation  of, 

281. 
Ellis,  *' Dan, "Union  guide,  392. 
Emin  Pasha,  282. 
Evans,  Sir  De  Lacy,  37. 

Farragut,  Admiral  David 
Glasgow,   379,  403//. 

Favre,  Jules,  65,  83. 

Flint,  Major  Grover,  corre- 
spondent in  Cuba,  410. 

Forbes,  Arch  *bald:  tossing  coins 
in  London  street,  69;  taken 
on  by  Daily  News,  72; 
early  life,  74;  sent  to  war  of 
1870  by  Morning  Advertiser, 
75;  at  Saarbriick,  75;  at 
Gravelotte,  76;  at  Sedan, 
77;  sees  surrender  of  Napo- 
leon m,  78;  at  Metz,  80; 
amazement  at  his  speedy 
reports,  81;  his  explana- 
tion of  his  methods,  82; 
at  siege  of  Paris,  83;  first 
to  enter  Paris,  84;  famous 
score  on  news  from  Paris, 


INDEX 


429 


Forbes,  Archibald,  cordinued: 
86;  sees  the  German  entry, 
87;  beaten  few  hours  by 
Russell  {q.v.)y  88;  in  Paris 
last  days  of  Commune,  89; 
ordered  shot  twice  in  five 
minutes,  91;  carries  Com- 
mune tidings  to  London, 
93;  in  India  and  Spain,  94; 
in  Servia,  94;  in  Russo- 
Turkish  war,  96;  methods 
used,  98;  long  rides,  100; 
before  Plevna,  101;  deco- 
rated by  the  Czar,  102;  in 
the  Shipka  Pass,  102;  brings 
tidings  to  the  Czar,  105; 
Plevna  battles,  106;  in 
Afghan  war  and  Burmah, 
107;  in  Zululand,  107;  on 
Isandula  field  of  massacre, 
108;  death  of  Prince  Im- 
perial, 108;  battle  of  Ulundi, 
109;  the  ride  from  TJlundi, 
111;  last  years,  114;  char- 
acterized, 69,  114; 
mentioned,  2,  4,  21,  22,  29, 
146,  151,  152,  155,  158. 
161//.,  167,  168,  170,  173, 
175, 190, 199,  333,  352,  378; 
quoted,  14,  18,  73,  75,  76,  78, 
82,85,91,95,100,103. 

Fox,  John,  in  Spanish-American 
war,  419. 

Franklin,  Lady  John,  138. 

Freaner,  James  L.,  "Mustang," 
correspondent  in  Mexican 
war  of  1846,7,361. 

Frere,  Sir  Bartle,  113. 

Funston,  Gen.  Frederick,  849. 

Furley,  Sir  John,  quoted,  137. 

Gambetta,  Leon,  118,  255. 
Garibaldi,  Gen.  Giuseppe,  258, 

266,  270. 
Gay,  Sydney  Howard,  399. 
Gibbs,  Philip,  23. 
Gladstone,  William  Ewart,  58, 

140. 


Glenesk,  Lord,  9,  S21. 
Godkin,  Edwin  Lawrence,  28, 67. 
Goode,  W.  A.  M.,  correspondent 

in   Spanish-American   war, 

422. 
Gordon,   Charles   George,   208, 

210,  214,  218. 
Gourko,  Gen.,  99,  117,  143. 
Goussio,  George,  275. 
Graham,  Edward,   correspond- 
ent   in    Spanish-American 

war,  421. 
Graham,  Gen.  Sir  Gerald,  180, 

200,  205,  207. 
Grant,  James,  70,  75. 
Grant,    Gen.    Ulysses   S.,    380, 

381,  383,  390,  397,406,407. 
Granville,  Lord,  245; 

quoted,  1. 
Greelev,  Horace,  357,  387. 
Green,  "DuflF,"  357. 
Greene,   Gen.  Frances  Vinton, 

147;    quoted,    2,    28,    117, 

136,  144,  148,  153,  154. 
Gribayedoff,  Valerian; 

quoted,  336. 
Gruneisen,       Charles        Lewis, 

pioneer    correspondent,    5, 

8//.,  351,  352. 

Hales,  A.  G.,  4. 

Halleck,  Gen.  Henry  W.,  389. 

Halstead,  Murat,  correspondent 

in  Franco-Prussian  war,  15. 
Hands, ,  exploit  at  Grave- 

lotte,  14, 15. 
Harmsworth,  Alfred,  305. 
Harrison,  Mrs.  Burton,  263. 
HaHfard,  U.  S.  N.,  403/. 
Havelock,  Gen.  Sir  Henry,  49, 75. 
Hearst,  William  Randolph,  349. 
Helicon,  H.  M.  S.,  280. 
Henley,  W.  E.; 
quoted,  304. 
Henningsen,  C.  F.,  9. 
Herbert,    St.    Leger,   martyred 

correspondent,  209. 
Hicks  Pasha,  197.  245,  269. 


430 


INDEX 


Hobson,  Richmond  P.,  419. 

Hood,  Thomas,  248. 

Hooker,  Gen.  Joseph,  399,  402. 

House,  Edwin  H.,  correspondent 
in  American  Civil  War,  398. 

Howard,  the  Hon.  Hubert, 
martyred  correspondent,220. 

Hozier,  Capt.  Henry,  corre- 
spondent in  the  Austro- 
Prussian  war,  59. 

Hudson,  Frederick,  quoted,  351, 
402/. 

Hugo,  Victor,  249,  266. 

Ignatieff,        Gen.        Count 
Nikolai  P.,  100,  105,  170. 
Indian  Mutiny,  the,  48/f. 
Ingram,  Herbert,  248. 
Isandula,  massacre  of,   107/. 
Ito,  Admiral  Count,  340. 

Jackson,  John  P.,  correspond- 
ent in  Russo-Turkish  war  98. 

James,  Lionel,  correspondent 
in  Manchuria  and  South 
Africa,  27,  334. 

Jameson  Raid,  189. 

Jerrold,   Douglas,   33,  48,  248. 

Johnson's  Island,  attempt  to 
liberate  Confederate  prison- 
ers there,  194. 

Joubert,  Gen.  Petrus  J.,  226. 

ICars,  fortress  of,  271. 

Kassala,  expedition  to,  211. 

Kauffman,  Gen.  Konstantin  P., 
121,  123,  126,  130,  136. 

Kendall,  George  Wilkins:  pio- 
neer correspondent,  352jf., 
356;  style,  353;  as  a 
wit,  357;  founds  New 
Orleans  Picayune,  357;  early 
life,  357;  with  the  Santa 
Fe  expedition,  358;  prisoner 
in  City  of  Mexico,  360; 
in  Mexican  war,  362^.; 
captures  a  cavalry  flag, 
363;  use  of  pony  express, 
363,  370;  dangers  of  riders. 


372;  use  of  despatch  ships, 
370;  influence  with  Gen. 
Taylor,  364;  with  Gen. 
Scott's  army,  366;  under 
fire  at  Vera  Cruz,  366; 
reports  Cerro  Gordo  hour 
by  hour,  366;  before  City 
of  Mexico,  367;  detects 
Santa  Anna's  artifice,  368; 
commended  in  despatches, 
368;  wounded,  369;  scores 
on  the  Treaty  of  Peace,  373; 
in  Paris,  and  marriage,  373; 
death,  374. 

Khiva,  116,  122/. 

Khyber  Pass,  the,  107. 

Kingston,  William  Beatty,  cor- 
respondent in  Russo-Turk- 
ish war,  173. 

Kipling,  Rudyard,  46,  114,  155, 
203,  412; 
quoted,  304. 

Kitchener,    Gen.    Sir    Herbert, 
188,  211,  312,  316; 
quoted,  304. 

Knight,  Edward  Frederick:  as 
an  amateur  juggler,  286; 
in  the  Foreign  Legion,  287; 
travels,  287;  campaigns, 
287;  as  a  small  boat  sailor, 
288;  as  a  treasure-hunter, 
288;  in  Madagascar,  288/.; 
reaches  Antananarivo,  292; 
methods  of  eluding  boycott 
on  news,  293;  unique  posi- 
tion as  a  correspondent, 
293;  in  plot  to  save  the 
Queen,  296;  sees  surrender 
of  the  capital,  297;  in  Nu- 
bian desert,  297^.;  dangers 
of  the  mirage,  299;  night 
march  and  battle  of  Ferkeh, 
301;  in  Cuba,  302;  under 
fire  in  Greece,  302;  loses 
right  arm  in  South  African 
war,  303; 
mentioned,  220,  421; 
quoted,  289,  291,  293,  299. 


INDEX 


431 


Knox,  Thomas  W.,  correspond- 
ent in  American  Civil  War, 
380. 

Kravencho,  Russian  correspond- 
ent, 29. 

KriloflF,  Gen.  148. 

Labouchere,  Henry,  corre- 
spondent in  siege  of  Paris, 
84  253. 

Lee,  Gen.  Robert  E.,  368,  382, 
397. 

Leech,  John,  33. 

Lemay,  Gaston,  272. 

Lemon,  Mark,  248. 

LeSage,  John  M.,  197. 

Liefde,  Jacob  de,  correspondent 
in  1870,  76. 

"Light  that  Failed,"  Kipling's, 
114,  156. 

Lincoln,  Pres.  Abraham,  54,  58, 
379,  384#.,  393,  397,  400, 
402,  406,  408. 

Lockhart,  Gen.  Sir  William,  322. 

Longstreet,  Gen.  James,  263. 

Lowe,  Col.  Drury,  110. 

Lumsden,  Francis,  correspond- 
ent in  Mexican  war  of  1846, 
357,  360,  364,  366,  370f. 

Lyman, ,  correspondent  in 

Spanish-American  war,  424. 

MacDonald,  217,  316,  327. 

MacGahan,  Januarius  Aloysius: 
casket  brought  to  the 
United  States,  115;  Libera- 
tor of  Bulgaria,  116;  char- 
acterized, 117,  142,  144, 
147,  154;  birth  and  boy- 
hood, 117;  in  war  of  1870, 
118;  wanders  about  Europe, 
119;  in  the  Crimea,  120; 
ride  to  Khiva,  121Jf.;  thirst 
and  sufferings,  125;  deep 
in  desert  sands,  129;  joins 
the  Russian  column,  131; 
fall  of  Khiva,  132;  in  the 
harem,       133;      campaign 


against  the  Turcomans, 
134;  "covers"  the  Virginius 
affair,  136;  in  Carlist  cam- 
paign, 136/.;  narrow  escape 
from  death,  137;  in  the 
Arctic  regions,  138jf.;  in- 
vestigates Bulgarian  mas- 
sacres, 140jf.;  in  Russo- 
Turkish  war,  143^.;  ankle 
broken,  143;  chums  with 
Gen.  Skobeleff,  146;  before 
Plevna,  147;  scores  with 
news  from  Plevna,  151; 
death  and  funeral,  153; 
his  son,  154;  monument 
in  Ohio,  154; 
mentioned,  2,  27,  29,  98,  99, 
106,  107,  174,  234,  421; 
quoted,  122,  124f.,  126,  133, 
135/.,  139.  148/. 

MacMahon,  Marshal,  26,89,93. 

Madagascar,  French  conquest 
of,  220/. 

Maine,  U.  S.  N.,  blown  up,  409, 
411,  422. 

Maine,  U.  S.  Hospital  Ship,  189. 

Malakand  Field  Force,  the, 
322/. 

Marchand,  Capt.,  and  the 
Fashoda  incident,  218. 

Marryatt,  Capt.  Frederick,  358. 

Marshall,  Edward,  correspond- 
ent in  Cuba,  423. 

McArthur,  Gen.  349. 

McClellan,  Gen.  George  B.,  57, 
399. 

McCullagh,  Joseph  B.,  corre- 
spondent in  American  Civil 
War,  380. 

Mejanel,  M.,  exploit  at  Sedan, 
20. 

Menpes,  Mortimer,  quoted,  192. 

Merrimacy  U.  S.,  collier,  sinking 
of,  421. 

Merv,  cf.  O'Donovan,  Edmond. 

Millet,  Francis  D.,  correspond- 
ent in  Russo-Turkish  war 
and  in  the  Philippines,  98/. ; 


433 


INDEX 


Millet»  Francis  D.,  continiied: 
107,  117,  151,  421; 

quoted,  144. 
Moltke,  Marshal  Von,  15, 26, 29. 
Moore,  Sir  John,  7. 
MuUer,  F.  Max; 

quoted,  31. 
MuUer,  Gustav,  exploit  at  Metz, 

21,  81. 
"Mustang,"  cf.  Freaner,  J.  L. 

"Nameless  Heroine,"  the,  cf. 

Stevens,  Malvina. 
Napoleon  HI,  26,  61,  78,  108, 

118,  225,  258. 
Nasmyth,  Charles,  pioneer  cor- 
respondent, 27. 
Neufeldt,  Charles,  218. 
Newspapers: 

Alabama  Register,  357; 

American  Eagle,  361 ; 

American  Star,  361; 

Baltimx)re  Sun,  356,  363; 

Bombay  Gazette,  273,  275; 

Boston  Journal,  380/.,  383, 
424; 

Chicago  Tribune,  416; 

Cincinnati  Gazette,  387; 

Cyprus  Times,  273; 

Daily  Chronicle,  TAe,  257, 421 ; 

Daily  Graphic,  The,  321; 

Daily  Mail,  The,  190,  304, 
305,311,318; 

Daily  News,  The,  10,  12,  17, 
20,61,63,70,73,80,83,87, 
97,  107,  109,  135,  140,  145, 
148,  153,  158,  173,  232, 
245f.,  255,  257,  270,  275, 
280; 

Daily  Telegraph,  The,  66,  70, 
134, 173, 190, 193, 197,  202, 
209/.,  212,  219/.,  225,  227, 
323; 

Egyptian  Gazette,  273,  281 ; 

Figaro,   The,  253; 

Glasg(m  Herald,  76,  273; 

Graphic,  The  Weekly,  157, 165, 
168,  190,  269; 


Harper's  Weekly,  263, 393, 402 ; 
Houston  Telegraph,  196; 
Illustrated  London  News,  111, 

113,247,255,258,267,285; 
Ulustrated  Sporting  News  257; 
Lady  smith  Lyre,  318; 
London  Gazette,  11; 
London  Scotsman,  70,  75 ; 
Manchester  Courier,  257; 
Morning   Advertiser,    10,    75, 

257; 
Morning  Chronicle,  6; 
Morning   Post,   9,   287,   303, 

321,  326,  351; 
National  Intelligencer,  357; 
National  Telegraph,  357; 
New  Orleans  Delta,  353,  355, 

361; 
New  Orleans  Picayune,   353, 

355,  360,  372; 
New  Orleans  Sun,  356; 
New  Orleans  Times,  356; 
New    Y&rh    Herald,    10,    98, 

118,    123,    140,    144,    220, 

282,    284,    355,    377,    393, 

395,  402,  410,  416,  -,22; 
New  York  Independent,  285; 
New  York  Journal,  349,  410, 

422' 
New  York  Tiines,  270,  377/., 

386; 
New    York    Tribune,    10,    12, 

17,  19,  21,  357,  377,  386, 

389,    390,    393,    395,    398, 

400,402,406; 
New  York  World,  15,  17.  282, 

339,    343,    379,    389,    393, 

398,  402,  409; 
Nile's  Register,  351,  354; 
Pall  Mall  Gazette,  13,  20, 255, 

305; 
Paris  Clarion,  277; 
Philadelphia  Inquirer,  398; 
Philadelphia    Public    Ledger, 

356; 
Pictorial  Tirrves,  248,  258; 
San  Francisco  Chronicle,  190; 
Southern  Illustrated  News,  193; 


INDEX 


433 


Newspapers,  continued: 

Standards  The,  70,  178,  267, 

271; 
Tampico  Sentinel,  361 ; 
Times  of  Egypt,  281 ; 
Timesy  The  (London),  5,  7,  9, 
21,  25,  31,  38,  40,  42,  47, 
54,  57,  60,  67,  70,  87,  153, 
219,  232,  257,  267,  287,  296, 
302,334,343,352,421; 
T.  P:s  Weekly,  285. 
Newspapers:  Cable    Tolls,    10, 
13,   350;   Circulations,    10; 
War  Extras,  10,  210. 
New  Orleans,  conditions  in  time 

of  Mexican  war,  354. 
Nightingale,  Florence,  39,  42. 
Norris,  Frank,  in  Cuba,  420. 
North,       Col.,       the    **Nitrate 
King,"  67,  257. 

O'DoNOVAN,  Edmond  :  char- 
acterized, 231;  early  years, 
232;  in  Franco-Prussian, 
Carlist  and  Russo-Turkish 
wars,  232;  personal  appear- 
ance, 232,  237;  journey  to 
Merv,  232^.;  among  the 
Tekke  Turcomans,  234 ;  final 
sally  for  Merv,  236;  life 
there,  238;  becomes  chief 
Triumvir  of  Merv,  242; 
difficulties  in  leaving,  244; 
returns  to  England,  245; 
death  at  Cashgill,  246; 
mentioned,  270,  272; 
quoted,  231,  236/.,  241/.,  244. 

Osbon,  B.  S.,  correspondent  in 
American  Civil  War,  379, 
402jf. 

Ogden,  D'Orsay,  193. 

O'Shea,    John    Augustus,    267. 

Osman  Digna,  172,  200,  206. 

Osman  Pasha,  106,  147,  152. 

Paine,  Ralph  D.,  302;  quoted 

286. 
Painter,    Uriah,    correspondent 

in  American  Civil  War,  398. 


Pandora,  the,  138/. 

Peard,  Col.,  "Garibaldi's  Eng- 
lishman," 260. 

Pearse,  H.  H.  S.  correspondent 
in  the  Soudan,  153. 

Phillips,  Wendell,  399. 

Pigeons,  Carrier,  as  news 
bearers,  9,  84,  252. 

Polk,  Pres.  James  K.,  355,  364. 

Pony  Express,  for  news  pur- 
poses,   98,    102,    354,  370. 

Prayer  Book,  the,  as  an  im- 
plement for  a  "scoop," 
193,  227. 

Prince  Imperial,  death  of  the, 
108. 

Prior,  Melton,  war  artist,  109/., 
113,  209,  225; 
quoted,  192. 

Pulitzer,  Joseph,  344. 

Radetzky,        Gen.        Count 

Joseph  W.,  103. 
Rae,  George  Bronson,  in  Cuba, 

409/.,  419. 
Raglan,  Lord,  11,  35,  43. 
Ralph,  Julian,  24;  quoted, 

286. 
Reade,  Charles,  33. 
Reid,  Whitelaw,  correspondent 

in  American  Civil  War,  379, 

382,  386/. 
Renter's  Agency,  12. 
Rhodes,  Cecil,  183,  189,  220. 
Rhodes,    Frank,   correspondent 

in  the  Soudan,  183, 189, 220. 
Ricalton,  James,  190. 
Richardson,  Albert  Deane,  cor- 
respondent    in     American 

Civil  War,  379,  387-393. 
Roberts,  Lord,  23,  26,  226, 333. 
Robertson,  Sir  Forbes,  156. 
Robinson,       Henry       Crabbe, 

pioneer  correspondent,  5-8, 

351. 
Robinson,  Sir  John,  10,  12,  17, 

22,71,75.81.245,281. 
Robinson,  "Phil, "  in  Cuba,  4H. 


434 


INDEX 


Roosevelt,  Theodore,  362. 

Russell,  Sir  William  Howard 
sent  to  the  Crimea,  31 
early  work  in  Ireland,  32 
birth,  33;  early  work  in 
London,  33;  journey  to  the 
Crimea,  34;  hardships,  35; 
exposes  soldiers'  sufferings, 
39;  appeals  for  nurses,  42; 
his  letters  overthrow  the 
Aberdeen  ministry,  42; 
accused  of  persecuting  Lord 
Raglan,  43;  the  Crimean 
letters,  43/.;  charge  of  the 
Light  Brigade,  44^.;  origin 
of  the  "thin,  red  line," 
46;  capture  of  the  Malakoff, 
47;  return  to  England,  47; 
at  the  Czar's  coronation, 
48;  given  degree  of  LI.  D., 
48;  ordered  to  India,  48; 
favored  by  Sir  Colin  Camp- 
bell, 49;  march  toLucknow, 
50;  pillage  of  the  city,  51; 
illness,  58;  Sepoy  enormities 
investigated,  53;  in  the 
United  States,  54/.;  battle 
of  Bull  Run,  56;  return  to 
England,  58;  pensioned  by 
The  Times,  58;  at  battle  of 
Sadowa,  59;  advocates 
"fixed  ammunition,"  59; 
in  Franco-Prussian  war, 
60jf. ;  at  Sedan,  60;  amusing 
episode  with  Hilary  Skin- 
ner, 60;  changing  methods, 
62;  siege  of  Paris,  63; 
rivalry  with  Forbes,  63; 
sees  WUhelm  proclaimed 
German  Emperor,  64; 
scores  on  news  of  peace 
negotiations,  Q5\  German 
entry  into  Paris,  Q5)  tour 
with  Prince  of  Wales,  66;  in 
South  Africa,  66;  in  Egypt, 
67;  in  Chile,  67;  death,  67; 
character,  32,  67; 
mentioned,  9,  26,  74,  83,  87, 
260,  378; 


quoted,  29,  41,  44/.,  47,  50, 
51,  5Q,  61,  64,  69. 

Saia,  George  Augustus,  117, 

248,  253. 
Sampson,  Admiral  W.  T.,  420, 

422. 
Santa  Anna,  Gen.  A.  L.,   360, 

365,  368. 
Santa   Fe   Expedition,   the,   of 

1841,  358/. 
San  Stefano,  Treaty  of  Peace,  167 
Schley,     Commodore,     W.     S., 

420,  422. 
Schuyler,  Eugene,  117, 121, 124, 

142. 
Scott,  Gen.  Winfield,  6,  9,  352, 

361,  365. 
Scovel,  Sylvester,  correspondent 

in  Cuba,  410/.,  419. 
Semmes,  Rafael,  369. 
Seward,   W.   H.,    Secretary    of 

State,  54. 
Sejonour,  Sir  Beauchamp,   176. 
Shand,        Alexander         Innis, 

quoted,  3. 
Sheridan,  Gen.    Philip,  15,  18, 

60,  77. 
Sherman,  Gen.  W.  T.,  380, 395. 
Sieges: 

Charleston,  263; 

Lucknow,  50; 

Ladysmith,  317,  334; 

Metz,  80; 

Paris,  by  the  Germans,  63,  83, 

250,  255; 
Paris,  the  Commune,  89,  118; 

254; 
Petersburg,  397; 
Plevna,  cf.  Russo-Turkish  war ; 
Port  Arthur,  first  siege,  342; 
Sebastopol,  cf.  Crimean  war; 
Vicksburg,  389. 
Skinner,  Hilary,  correspondent 
in  Franco-Prussian  war,  61/. 
Skobeleff,  Gen.  Mikhail  Dimitri- 
vitch,  29,  99,  115,  122,  134, 
143,  153,  174,  234,  240. 
Slatin  Pacha.  269. 


INDEX 


435 


Smalley,  George  Washburn,  12, 
378,  397;  his  work  in 
transition  period  of  war 
correspondence,  13jf . ;  his 
work  in  American  Civil 
War,S99f/.; 
quoted,19,22, 48, 106,375,401. 

Stanley,  Henry  M.,  282f. 

Stanton,  E.  M.  S.,  Secretary  of 
War,  384,  406,  408. 

Steamships,  to  expedite  news, 
370, 372 ;  cf.  Despatch  Boats. 

Stedman,  Edmund  Clarence, 
correspondent  in  American 
Civil  War,  379,  393,  397/. 

Steevens,  George  Warrington : 
death  at  Ladysmith,  304, 
319;  combination  of  scholar 
and  journalist,  304;  liter- 
ary style,  304,  319;  career 
at  school,  305;  in  Greco- 
Turkish  war,  306/.;  his 
outfit,  306;  at  Elassona, 
307;  at  Meluna,  308;  at 
Larissa,  308;  at  Velestino, 
309;  receives  surrender  of 
Volo,  310;  at  Domoko,  311 ; 
in  the  Soudan,  312/.;  at 
the  Atbara,  313;  at  Om- 
durman,  314;  in  South 
Africa,  317^. ;  siege  of  Lady- 
smith,  317;  keeps  garrison 
in  good  cheer,  318;  funeral, 
319;  characterized,  319; 
quoted,  306,  309,  312,  314. 

Stevens,  Miss  Malvina,  the 
"Nameless  Heroine,"  392. 

Stevens,  Thomas,  correspond- 
ent in  East  Africa,  282. 

Stewart,  Gen.  Sir  Herbert,  183, 
189,208. 

Stickney,  J.  L.,  correspondent  at 
Manila,  416. 

StoletofiF,  Gen.  lOS. 

Stuart,  Gen.  J.  E.  B.,  2(53. 

Suleiman  Pacha,  102. 

Swedish  Intelligence,  early  ex- 
ample of  war  correspond- 
ence, 5. 


Taylor,  Gen.  Zachaby,  6,  352, 
361. 

Tchernaieff,  Gen.  Mikhail  J.,  94. 

Telegraph,  in  war  correspond- 
ence, 9,  12/.,  302,  320, 
323,  345/.;  cf.  Cable 
Tolls. 

Thackeray,  William  Makepeace, 
32,  248,  357. 

Thompson,  Howard,  in  Cuba, 
421. 

Thousand,  the,  cf.  Garibaldi. 

Tobin,  M.  F.; 
quoted,  405. 

Todleben,  Gen.  Count  Franz 
E.  I.,  107. 

Tokar,  relief  of,  180,  200/ 

Townsend,  George  Alfred,  cor- 
respondent in  American 
Civil  War,  375,  380. 

Trevelyan,  George  Macauley, 
259. 

Victor,  Emmanuel,  258,  260. 

Victoria   Cross,   the,    4,    208. 

Villard,  Henry,  correspondent 
in  American  Civil  War,  379, 
.   .397/. 

Villiers,  Frederic :  Character- 
ized, 155,  191;  methods  of 
work,  155;  distances  trav- 
eled, 156;  youth,  156;  taken 
on  the  Graphic,  157;  in 
Servian  war,  158/.;  ^st 
under  fire,  160;  joins  the 
Turks,  164;  makes  thumb- 
nail sketches,  166;  in  Russo- 
Turkish  war,  167/.;  adven- 
ture in  a  wine-cellar,  169; 
before  Plevna,  171 ;  thought 
by  Forbes  to  be  killed,  172; 
in  Malta,  174 ;  in  the  Afghan 
war,  174;  aroimd  the  world, 
175;  in  Egypt,  175;  bom- 
bardment of  Alexandria, 
175;  looting  of  the  city, 
178;  relief  of  Tokar,  180; 
at  El  Teb,  180;  in  the 
broken   square   at  Tamai, 


436 


INDEX 


Villiers,  Frederic,  continued: 
181;  to  Abyssinia,  182;  with 
the  Gordon  relief  expedi- 
tion, 182;  in  the  Servo- 
Bulgarian  war,  183;  rac- 
ing half  round  the  world, 
184;  at  Chicago,  188; 
Chino-Japanese  war,  188, 
190;  Greco-Turkish  war, 
188;  in  the  Soudan  with 
again,  188;  guest  of  Cecil 
Rhodes,  189;  misses  the 
Jameson  raid,  189;  the 
Boer  war,  189^.;  again 
reported  dead,  190;  lectur- 
ing, 188,  190;  the  Russo- 
Japanese  war,  190;  later 
campaigns,  191; 

mentioned,  91,   94,   99,   101, 
122,  344,  422; 

quoted,  30,  69,  153,  157f, 
161, 169, 176, 177,  181,  186. 
VirginiuSy  the  affair  of  the,  136. 
Vizetelly,  Edward  Henry:  with 
Garibaldi  in  1870,  271;  in 
Asia  Minor,  271jf.;  becomes 
a  Bashi-Bazouk,  271;  in 
Cyprus,  273;  in  Egypt,  273 
ff. ;  keeps  a  half -hourly  diary 
of  the  bombardment  of 
Alexandria,  276;  the  march 
out  of  the  city,  279;  goes  to 
Zanzibar  for  James  Gordon 
Bennett,  281jf.;  carries 
American  flag  to  meet  H. 
M.  Stanley,  283;  death, 
285;  "Bertie  Clere,"  270; 

mentioned,  231,  247; 

quoted,  276/.,  280. 
Vizetelly,  Ernest  Alfred: 
youngest  war  correspond- 
ent, 247;  in  Paris  during 
siege  by  Germans,  255; 
story  of  defeat  of  Gen. 
Chanzy,  255;  in  Paris 
through  the  Commune,  256; 
translator  of  Zola,  257; 

quoted,  247,  255/. 
Vizetelly,  Frank  Horace,  visits 


Boer  war  prisoners'  camps 
at  Bermuda,  285. 

Vizetelly,  Frank:  sketches  the 
child  of  Napoleon  HI,  258; 
at  Solferino,  258;  with  Gar- 
ibaldi and  the  Thousand, 
258/.;  with  Garibaldi  on 
Caprera,  260;  in  the  Ameri- 
can Civil  War,  260/.;  joins 
the  South  by  the  "under- 
ground route,  '*  261 ;  honored 
for  courage,  263;  drawings 
treated  as  contraband  of 
war,  263;  his  account  of  the 
bombardment  of  Charles- 
ton, 264;  runs  the  blockade, 
266;  in  the  CarHst  war 
267;  at  the  bombardment  of 
Alexandria,  268;  death  at 
El  Obeid,  269;  memorial, 
270; 
mentioned,  246,  247. 

Vizetelly,  Henry  Richard : 
associate  founder  Illus- 
trated London  NewSy  248; 
founder  of  Pictorial  Times, 
248;  Paris  correspondent 
of  the  News,  249;  in  Paris 
in  siege  times,  250;  sends 
despatches  by  balloon,  251 ; 
with  General  Chanzy,  254; 
in  Paris  in  the  Commune, 
254. 

Vizetelly,  Montague:  in  Abys- 
sinia, 257;  the  "Captious 
Critic, "  257;  his  career,  257. 

Vizetelly, the  family,  248. 

War  Correspondent,  the: 
changing  conditions  of  the 
profession,  1/ ;  why  needed, 
3;  his  work,  3;  qualifica- 
tions, 4;  early  correspond- 
ents, 5/.,  351/.;  expense 
of  his  news,  10,  350,  413; 
early  "extras,"  10;  transi- 
tion period  in  1870,  12/., 
63,  79;  the  censorship,  22; 
occasional  excesses  of  cor- 


INDEX 


437 


War  Correspondent,  continued: 
respondents,  26;  services 
rendered  by  them,  27;  not 
obsolete,  28;  power  of  pub- 
licity, 30,  191;  memorials 
of,  68,  114,  154,  246,  270, 
375;  methods  in  1877,  96/., 
167;  in  1861-5,  376/.;  in 
1898,  409/.;  outfit,  306; 
deaths  in  the  service,  163, 
183,  209,  220,  270,  319, 
380,  424. 
Wars  and  Campaigns: 

Afghan  (1878),  107,  174; 

Algerian,  (1871),  271; 

American  (1861-5),  192, 260, 

375; 

Ashanti,  222; 

Austro-Prussian,    (1866),   59, 
267,  386,  397; 

Austro-Sardinian,  258 ; 

Carlist,    8/.,   94,  136/.,   232, 
267; 

Crimean,  28,  31,  34; 

Cuban,  321,  409/.; 

Chino-Japanese,  188,  336; 

Danish  (1850),  33; 

Dongola  expedition,  298; 

Egyptian,  175,  197; 

Franco-Prussian,  12,  60,  232, 
249,255,257; 

Garibaldi's    Sicilian    Expedi- 
tion, 258; 

Gordon  Relief  Expedition,  208 ; 

Greco-Turkish    (1897),    188, 
287,  302,305,344; 

Hicks     Pasha's     expedition, 
245,269; 

Hunza-Nagar  expedition  1891, 
287; 

Italian  Campaign  in  Abyssinia 
257; 

Madagascar,     French     Con- 
quest, 220,  288; 

MaJakand  Field  Force,  322; 

Mexico    and    United    States 
(1846).  6,  9,351; 

Nile  Campaign,  183; 


Peninsular  (1808-9),  7; 
Philippines,    349/.,    416,  421; 
Russo-Japanese,  25,  228,  422; 
Russo-Turkish,  96,  117,  143, 

232,416; 
Servian  (1876),  94,  158; 
Servo-Bulgarian,  183; 
Soudan  (1898),  188,  312; 
South  African,  24,  225,  303, 

317,327,422; 
Spanish-American,   302,   346, 

409; 
Tirah  Campaign,  322; 
Zulu  (1879),  68,  107. 
Washburne,  Elihu,  119,  137. 
Welles,    Gideon,    Secretary    of 
Navy,  379,  403,  406,  408. 
Wellington,  Duke  of,  33; 

quoted,  6. 
Whigham,  James,  in  Cuba,  423. 
White,  Holt,  exploit  at  Sedan, 

17/. 
White,  Richard  Grant,  398. 
Wilhelm   I.    of    Germany,    15, 

18,  60,  63/.,  77,  83. 
Wilkeson,  Samuel,  correspondent 
in  American  Civil  War,  379. 
Wilkie,  Franc  B.,  in  American 

Civil  War,  386. 
Williams,  Gen.  Sir  Frederick  271. 
Williams,  George  Forrester,  cor- 
respondent  in   Civil   War, 
380. 
Wing,  Henry  E.,  in  Civil  War, 

379,  406^. 
Wolseley,  Sir  Garnet,  66,  107, 
113,197,211; 
quoted,  1. 
Wood,    Sir    Evelyn,    43,    67; 

quoted,  230. 
Worth,  Gen,  W.  J.,  366,  368. 
Wright,    H.  C.  Seppinjs,   421. 

Yamagi,  Gen.,  (Marquis  Yam- 

agata),341. 
Yates,  Edmund,  248. 

ZiMMERMANN,  GeN.,   100. 


14  DAY  USE 

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